Zoo(dys)topia
by Albaphet
Summary: My interpretation of what the original plot structure for Zootopia might have turned out to be had the creators gone through with it.
1. Chapter 1

"Thousands of years ago, the world was a very different place. A place where instinct ruled, where logic and reason had not yet taken hold in our minds. It was a time when-"

"Everyone was naked!" The shout echoed through the bustling museum, attracting a bemused look from a passing police officer. The tour guide, a slender gazelle with black onyx earrings swinging to and fro from her twitching ears, paused her monologue.

"Wilde," she sighed, "up front. Now." Though she had been introduced to the class of cubs (and kits and pups and kids and fawns, etc...) only an hour earlier, she already becoming quite well acquainted with one in particular. A fox.

The kit made his way to the front of the group of predators he had been standing in, tail held in his paws, smiling at his fellows, who seemed to have enjoyed his joke. He was bright eyed and lively, ears perked up, perhaps nine or ten years old. The prey, standing in a group somewhat separate from the predators, watched him with curiosity.

"Everyone _was_ naked back then," the guide said with a benevolent smile, inviting some laughter from the class, "but not because it was funny. Because back then we didn't know any better. Back then we were just beasts, not mammals like we are today. Now, can anyone tell me what we're looking at in this display?" A brief moment of silence, then a dozen paws shot skyward.

It was an easy question, and not only because the object in the display case wasn't just present within its glass box. Settled on a cushion, like a piece in a jeweler's, was a tough nylon collar with a little black box, perhaps half the size of a pack of cards, nestled on one side. A green light in the center of the box blinked languidly, once every two seconds, symbolizing that it wasn't being worn. If it was, then the light would remain steady, a verdant glow that made one feel peaceful just looking at it.

"A Tame Collar!" Cried a horse, clicking his hooves on the floor in excitement. The guide nodded.

"Exactly. This one is a current model, like the ones that your predator friends are wearing right now, but these have been in constant production for many years now. We're going to look at some of the earliest models in the next room in a few minutes..." The fox raised a paw.

"Yes Wilde?"

"What about before the collars?" The guide nodded evenly at the question. A good one. Seemed like Wilde could be pretty sharp when he wasn't being a jokester.

"Well. That brings us back to what I was saying about the past. When we were all naked," a few giggles, "back then predators and prey lived in constant fear of each other because...?" She looked out to the class. Paws and hooves shot up once more.

"Because predators were mean to us." A sheep said solemnly.

"More than that," the guide said, "predators used to _eat_ prey." A little group of predators shifted uncomfortably at her tone, which had dropped into being foreboding.

"But why?" The sheep asked, eyes wide.

"Because back then they didn't know any better. It was in their DNA, their biology to eat prey. But fortunately we have uplifted since then and helped each other into the present, where we're all friends." Her tone was lighter and more optimistic now, and the class nodded to themselves, digesting this information.

"So...why do we still need the collars then?" Wilde again. The guide regarded him with some well hidden pity.

"Because deep down, in your DNA, those ancient instincts are still lurking. And sometimes they can be triggered by intense anger or fear or desperation. And if that happened then you could seriously hurt someone." Wilde furrowed his brow, confused.

"But lots of people get angry," he said, "not just predators."

"We're talking about different things Wilde," the guide said gently, "when predators get angry, well, there's a risk of activating those instincts. Prey don't have those. That's why you're wearing the collar and we aren't." The kit fell silent, looking oddly unnerved. He raised a paw and touched the collar he was wearing, a frown appearing on his face.

"Now, who can tell me what happens if there's a situation where the collar has to activate?"

"Zap!" Shouted a bunny, smiling at his friends.

"To put it more sensitively," said the guide, "the Tame Collar measures a hundred different things, from skin temperature to heart-rate to the level of noise that is being made by its wearer. And if enough of these elevate beyond certain parameters then the collar will administer a measured electric shock that's designed to cancel out those bad thoughts that caused the shock in the first place." Wilde was still holding his tail, but more tightly now, like he was clutching a security blanket. The guide felt a little twinge of pity at the sight.

"Now, that may seem scary and cruel, but it's really for your own protection. The collar exists for a reason, and the world is a better place because of it. Now, let's go see what your ancestors wore..." The class moved on. Wilde remained dead silent for the rest of the tour.

Nick Wilde was nine and three quarters of a year old, he enjoyed reading about the outdoors and all of the great adventures that occurred there, and had always been a happy kit. That seemed to have changed when he stepped through the door of the apartment that he shared with his father, on the bottom floor of a complex nestled right on the border between downtown proper and Savanna Central.

"Hey champ," came his father's voice from the next room, "how was the field trip, did you get to see the Arctic expedition exhibit?" Nick shut the door behind him and closed the lock, following it with the deadbolt. The area he lived in wasn't exactly unsafe, but there was enough crime that locking the door behind him had become habit.

"It was fine dad." He said, and dropped his bag on the floor next to the kitchen table. From where he was standing he could see people and vehicles bustling down the street outside, permeating the apartment with a pleasant muffled hum of activity.

His father was heavily laden, a display case in one paw, a bolt of fabric in the other, another case nestled between his elbows as he made his way into the kitchen. He had on his suit, an old dust brown hand me down that had once belonged to his father, a venerable fox that had died before Nick was born.

"You alright there champ?" His father asked, and then ducked backwards, just barely saving the case wedged between his elbows from tumbling to the linoleum floor. Nick took it and plunked it onto the table, staggering slightly beneath its weight.

"I'm fine dad." Nick sighed, straightening his father's rumpled tie. "Going presenting?" A nod and a smile from his father.

"I've been talking to the folks at Lemming Brothers, and I think that they're interested in giving us that loan I've been talking about." This cut through the strangeness of the day like a hot knife through butter. Nick smiled.

"Really? Dad, that's great!" Now he was back to the happy little kit that he usually was, perked up ears, bushy wagging tail, a smile from ear to ear.

"The meeting is scheduled for five, so I should probably hurry..." He tried to pick up the case once more but only succeeded in rumpling his tie once more and mussing his fur. Nick seized the case from the table and stood, arms wrapped around it, ears poking above the top.

"Can I come?" He asked. And his father smiled.

"Sure. But one thing first..." He set down the items he was holding, took the case and opened it up. It unfolded into three wings, revealing a delicately made miniature lit by real electric lights.

The miniature was of a fine clothing store, suits and ties and shirts of all sizes displayed all around. These had been made by Nick's father especially for the display, but were perfectly wearable if one was an especially slim mouse or lemming. A banner stretching above read: SUITOPIA!

Nick watched as his father fished a pen from his pocket and quickly wrote something beneath the banner. Drawing back, he put his paws on his hips, clearly satisfied with his work. Now, beneath SUITOPIA!, in smaller text, was: Operated by Wilde and Son.

"You're gonna need a tie," Nick's father told him, "but aside from that, I think we're ready to go."

Some time later, seated in a high backed velvet lined chair, the display case on his lap, Nick watched the world of Lemming Brother's Bank (the original one, a sign on the front door informed him as he entered) move around him. Customers were lined up in front of counters, and on the sides of the halls, in carefully cordoned off lanes, lemmings, mice and rodents of all kinds streamed back and forth, burdened with documents and papers. Up above him Nick could see a network of transparent plastic tubes stretching along the ceiling, employees wheeling carts full of papers along them. It was all very exciting, he'd never seen the inside of such a fancy bank before and felt like he could sit and sight see all day.

"Wilde?" A pig called from her place next to the counter, adjusting the blonde wig she was wearing, "they're ready for you in Room 203." Nick hopped up, balancing under the weight of the display case, and followed his father along.

Room 203 was the office of an elephant with grandfatherly spectacles and yellowed tusks. He was evidently quite venerable and glanced over to his assistant as the two Wildes walked in.

"Foxes." He muttered softly, under his breath. His assistant, a sheep with a carefully styled poof of fluff atop his head, nodded dutifully, hooves folded in front of him. Nick glanced uncertainly at the elephant, wondering just what he had meant by that. It was almost like he...didn't want to see them.

"Good afternoon Mr. Jumbeaux, I'm Cornelius Wilde, your five o'clock." Nick's father said cheerfully, eyeing the pair of chairs that sat in front of Jumbeaux's desk. The seat of them was almost as tall as Nick's ears, and as Nick watched his father hauled the case and bolt of fabric he was carrying onto the seat before clambering up after them, panting with the effort.

"Here, hand that up to me son." He said, looking over the edge of the chair to Nick, who did his best to hand up the heavy case to his father. After some effort they were able to haul the case up, and Nick joined his father on the chair, hefting their items onto Jumbeaux's desk. Neither the elephant banker or his assistant made any move to help them. The sheep, Nick could see now, was standing atop a stool next to Jumbeaux, so that he could be roughly on the elephant's level. He avoided Nick's gaze studiously.

"Sorry about that," Nick heard his father say with a nervous chuckle, "but, uh, we're on track now. So how about we show you what we're planning for our operation." Jumbeaux nodded slowly, and as Nick watched carefully scooted a heavy gold paperweight away from them, sticking it into a drawer. It sure was nice of him, Nick thought, to give them some more room for their presentation.

"You wouldn't mind if we got up onto your desk sir, would you? It would make it easier for us to present..." Nick's father asked, still smiling, right on the border of obsequious. Jumbeaux gave his assistant a look, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Um," the sheep stammered, "I don't think that that would be...uh...your claws could scratch the desk..." Nick glanced down at his feet, at his claws. He hadn't ever really thought about that before.

"Sorry then," Nick's father said, "uh, well, here it goes." He pointed to the suit that Jumbeaux was wearing, a massive double breasted affair with a whole bouquet of flowers stuck into the breast pocket. Nick could smell them from where he was standing. Peace lilies.

"Walking around Zootopia I see lots of clothing stores in lots of places, but for the most part they cater only to some types of mammals. And this is unfair if you're an elephant," a knowing look at Jumbeaux, "and you're trying to find something that fits _you._ But...what if there was a fine clothes store for _all_ mammals?" He popped the display open and Nick flicked on the lights, bathing the Suitopia miniature in a warm yellow glow. "Well, my son and I have a plan, we have a location, and we have a _dream._ And all we need is a loan to make it happen. It's not Zootopia, it's Wilde and Son's Suitopia!" Nick joined in for this last part and smiled at Jumbeaux, who looked spectacularly unenthused. He looked down at the loan form that Nick's father had set down in front of the miniature and with philosophical deliberation picked up a red stamp with his trunk and brought it down, printing the word DENIED across the page.

Nick stared. He felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. Jumbeaux hadn't even hesitated, and for the first time Nick realized, with a horrible sinking sensation in his gut, that from the moment they'd walked into the elephant's office, Jumbeaux had been waiting to deny them.

"Why?" He asked plaintively, before he could stop himself, "my dad's been looking for a loan of weeks." Jumbeaux had already busied himself with something else, straightening a sheaf of papers on the desk in front of him, ignoring the distraught kit.

"Come on champ," Nick heard his father say and felt his paw on his shoulder, "we have to go now."

"Foxes." Jumbeaux said, with some small amusement in his voice, giving his assistant a knowing look. It was the exact same thing he'd said when they'd first walked into his office, but only now did it fully make sense. Nick thought back to the museum, which they'd gone to as a special school treat for finally getting their collars. Thought about what the guide had told him.

"You're not better than me just 'cause I'm wearing this." Nick said fiercely, hooking his thumb under the collar and yanking it to one side, to show Jumbeaux. The collar beeped, a low warning tone, and then searing pain shot through him, his limbs went stiff and he toppled onto the elephant's desk, knocking the papers from Jumbeaux's hands. Reports and forms fluttered around the office and Jumbeaux reeled back, eyes wide with anger.

"I'm calling security!" He bellowed and Nick, scrambling up, heart racing, felt his father grab ahold of him, hugging him tightly.

"What's going on here?" Came a threatening voice from the front of the office. Nick could see, through shimmering veils of tears, the broad form of a hippo in the dark blue of a police uniform.

"He lunged at me!" Jumbeaux said, outraged, and the hippo advanced, beady eyes narrowing, face set in a grimace.

"You foxes," he muttered, looming over the two Wildes, "always causing trouble."

"This is all a big misunderstanding sir," Nick could hear his father stammering, desperately polite even now, "my boy only just got his collar a few days ago, he still doesn't know how it works..." The officer reached down and with effortless ease snatched them both up. Pressed tightly to the hippo's chest, Nick tried to cry out but couldn't draw the breath. His collar shocked him again. He began to weep.

"Mr. Jumbeaux has agreed to drop the charges," the police sergeant, a goat, was telling them, "but on the condition that you never venture into his establishment ever again." They were sitting in a windowless room lit by a single naked bulb. The floor was tile and in the center was a round metal grate that seemed to serve as a drain. Nick wasn't sure why it would be there, the room didn't seem to have any sort of running water.

Nick stared down at the floor, feeling sore and despondent. His father was still smiling, but Nick could tell that it was an act, just his father trying to seem grateful and subservient.

"Please tell Mr. Jumbeaux that we appreciate this." His father said. The goat nodded disinterestedly and produced a pair of forms with the Zootopia city emblem at the top.

"Sign these, then you can go." Nick didn't even look at his before scratching out a jagged signature at the bottom. The police had taken their display cases and only gave them back reluctantly, fixing them with hostile stares as they left the station. The entire time he was there Nick hadn't seen a single predator in uniform, just prey as far as the eye could see.

"I'm sorry dad." Nick said quietly as they traipsed down the street, toward the glowing lights of a bus stop. The apartment wasn't far, but neither of them felt much like walking.

"This was my fault." Nick heard his father sigh, and turned to him in surprise.

"But I..."

"The world isn't a perfect place Nick. And I guess I thought that if I didn't tell you what can happen to mammals like us then it just wouldn't..." He sighed again and shook his head in self reproach.

"Mammals like... _us?"_ Nick thought back to Jumbeaux and the hippo policeman. He thought of the green glow of his father's collar and how he had once envied it...how grown up it had looked.

"Sometimes people can be very cruel to each other for small reasons...like over the difference between predator and prey." Nick felt ill as he considered this, like he'd just dipped his toe into a swamp and found the mire slowly sucking him in.

"But why?" He asked, feeling very frightened and alone at that moment. But even as he asked he already knew. It was just as the guide had told him back at the museum. Deep within him, locked away in his very biology, were instincts that had once been used to hunt and kill and eat.

Nick sat down on the hard plastic of the bus stop seat and tried not to start crying again. He was quiet the rest of the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fifteen Years Later...**

Something was rattling overhead, making a busy hum that shook Nick from the gentle embrace of sleep. Sitting up, blankets falling away, he was blissfully groggy for a moment. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, yawning a great big yawn, he cocked his head to one side to work a kink from his neck and…

Found something digging into his neck. Oh, the collar. Of course. Even after althea years he could still sometimes wake up and be perfectly ignorant of the horrible thing…at least until the fog of drowsiness cleared from his mind.

Looking above him, at the network of pipes and vents that crisscrossed the ceiling of his little one room apartment, Nick sighed. Not even the rays of light peeking through the barred window at the front of his home could erase the numb feeling of disappointment that had settled over him. He tugged at the collar slightly, listening to the boiler run overhead, and then forced himself out of bed.

It was high time to get moving, there was nothing to be gained by sitting and moping.

Nick's apartment was sparsely furnished, a bed in the far right corner, a desk and rickety chair next to it…and really nothing else. The only object that displayed any sentimental value was a framed photograph. Nick took a moment to look back at it as he hurried out the door. It was an older picture, slightly grainy, showing two foxes standing side by side, display cases held proudly before them, grins on their faces. Nick thought that he could just about hear his father calmly running over the Suitopia presentation, somewhere in the back of his mind.

Sighing to himself, he shut the door behind him, locked both locks with separate keys (Nick's keychain bristled with keys and cards and little gadgets of all sorts) and hurried up the little flight of concrete stairs that separated his basement abode from the city streets.

It was a mild day, the sun shining brightly from a cloudless sky, the streets abuzz with activity. Despite the grim mood that the morning had put him in, Nick couldn't help but be slightly enthused by the bustle going on around him. It was something that he'd always liked about the city. There was always something going on, something happening.

Just from where he was he could see streams of rodent vehicles jockeying for position in their little side lane, a giraffe in a sleek red convertible growling past, a pair of badgers in work clothes busily loading box after box into a dented box truck with BLACK 'n WHITE Movers printed on the side in bold font.

It put him slightly at ease to know that, despite everything that might have been wrong with the world, the whole shebang was still spinning.

"Watch it _fox."_ A rhino lumbered past, forcing Nick to take a hurried few steps back to avoid being flattened. Fur bristling, Nick smoothed himself out and sighed.

"Couldn't you just let me have this one day?" He asked silently. The world offered him no response.

Finnick the fennec stood a proud two and a half feet tall, though nine inches of that was admittedly just his ears. He was wearing a bulky duster even in the heat of the day, and tapping one foot impatiently as he watched Nick approach.

"You're late." He said sourly, glaring at his business partner.

"Come off it buddy," Nick said pleasantly, "it's a nice day, I had to stroll." Finnick rolled his eyes but dropped the subject nonetheless.

"You know I don't like doing this." He said unhappily. Nick nodded in perfect understanding.

"Yes, but I'm sure you'd like our venture going bankrupt a whole lot less." Finnick had no argument for that. The two predators turned casually and headed into an alleyway, dark and dank, a nice little hiding spot.

There, stashed behind a stack of moldering pallets, was a powder blue baby carriage.

"Koslov load it up already?" Nick asked. Finnick nodded drearily, supremely displeased by what he was about to have to do.

"Yes…" He sighed, and reluctantly shed the duster. Beneath the coat Finnick wore a fluffy white diaper and a shirt adorned with a rocket ship. Popping a pacifier into his mouth, he stared up at Nick, arms folded, looking the very picture of the world's most miserable baby.

"Looking just as adorable as ever buddy," Nick needled playfully, picking Finnick up and settling him into the carriage. Finnick spat the pacifier out and gave his partner a dangerous look.

"I will bite you if you ever call me adorable again." Nick chuckled, flipped the carriage's shade down, and disengaged the brake.

The first thing he noticed was that the carriage was shockingly heavy. Whatever Koslov had packed it with was weighty. Straightening his tie and making sure to have a smile on his face, Nick swung out of the alleyway, earning a confused look from a pig leading a clutch of piglets along.

"Diaper changes…" Nick explained with a long suffering look. The pig lady studiously avoided his eyes, Finnick made a strangled noise from inside the carriage. They pressed onward, heading uptown.

Everything was going pretty well until Nick spotted the glow of police siren lights up ahead, reflecting from the glass and steel that seemed to make up all of the buildings in this part of the city. This was the ritzier part of Zootopia, where banks and fancy restaurants and apparel stores mingled together into one big bourgeois explosion. This was where, a lifetime ago, Nick had accompanied his father on a fateful trip to Lemming Brothers.

Stopping the carriage, Nick flipped up the shade and bent over, pretending to busy himself with adjusting something inside.

"Checkpoint up ahead buddy," he said quietly to Finnick, "get ready to look cute." A murderous stare from the fennec. "…close enough." Nick flipped the shade back down and kept on walking, examining the street ahead of him carefully.

Whatever had happened to prompt the checkpoint was obviously new. Nick could see officers hauling barricades into place, blocking off the sidewalk but for a narrow passage. Prey were being allowed through, evidently they didn't fit the description of whatever the police were looking for today.

"What's going on?" Nick heard a leopard ask the wolf next to him. The wolf shrugged, sipping a Claw-bucks latte. Despite himself he felt anxious, what if something went wrong? What if the police sniffed out whatever Koslov was having him carry?

"Morning officer," Nick smiled broadly at the antelope officer who was manning the sidewalk checkpoint, "what's happening here?" He made sure to look gently concerned, like something bad might have happened to someone else.

"ID sir." The antelope said, voice flat and professional. Nick tilted his head so that the antelope had clear access to the black box on the side of his collar. Bringing up a black device that looked very much like a barcode scanner, the antelope ran it over the box. The device beeped.

"Nicholas Wilde?" The antelope asked.

"Yes officer." The antelope looked down at the carriage and flipped the shade open, regarding Finnick, who gazed back up at him, eyes wide and filled with childlike curiosity. The pacifier was still firmly in his mouth.

"And this is…?" The officer asked.

"My boy, he just got his collar on yesterday, isn't that just the cutest thing?" The antelope didn't seem to share Nick's enthusiasm in the slightest. He waved them on.

"Keep outta trouble." He said, and Nick pushed the carriage forward with barely disguised relief.

"Thank you officer." He said, and only stopped smiling when they were halfway up the block. Letting a long, shaky breath hiss through his teeth, he slowed. They were coming up on the drop point, where Koslov had asked for the carriage to be delivered.

The drop point was a park, more specifically a stand of trees within that park, isolated from view for some distance. Nick relaxed a little more as they ventured off the street. Now he looked more natural, just a father taking the baby for a nice morning stroll.

"Morning." He smiled to a sheep who had taken a pause in her morning jog. She looked hurriedly away and pretended not to hear him. There were only a few predators in the park, and they all looked well off, not like Nick who, though he had worn his nicest clothes (and a tie as well), still appeared somewhat shabby.

"Rejected…" Finnick cackled softly from within the carriage. Nick rolled his eyes. They were almost at the stand of trees, their errand virtually over.

Walking along the concrete path into the shade of the trees felt almost like they had just journeyed into dusk. The foliage was thick and blocked the sun almost completely, giving the whole area a dim, verdant aesthetic. Nick hardly noticed, as a fox he had better night vision than most mammals, his eyes adjusted almost instantly.

They had come to a little pavilion, with a rock garden set in the center. And standing right next to those artfully arrayed stones, was a wall of white fur and muscle. Koslov.

"Nicky," the polar bear smiled, eyes hidden behind a pair of reflective shades, "so glad you could make it." Nick smiled politely, wondering to himself how Koslov could see a thing in the dimness of the trees. There were other bears present as well, keeping a discreet distance. Nick could hear them though, shifting from foot to foot, slightly bored.

"Sir," Nick smiled, pulling up the shade and letting Finnick hop out, "we've brought you your carriage." Koslov picked the carriage up and examined it, the whole thing looking almost like a toy in his massive paws.

"So you have," Koslov's voice was rough but possessed an undeniable warmth. The bear had real charisma to him, it was no wonder he'd risen so far and become so powerful, "I'm glad Nicky." Finnick had spat his pacifier out and was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, unhappy to have to be standing in a diaper before his boss.

"So, uh, just out of curiosity, what was that you were having us carry?" Nick asked. Koslov looked down from his inspection of the carriage, gently amused.

"If I told you that Nicky then I would have to kill you," Nick felt the fur at the back of his neck rise of its own accord. Koslov might have been mostly joking, but there was a seed of seriousness in there that put chills through Nick's entire body, "what I _can_ say is that it's certainly worth a pretty penny." Nick smiled politely. Koslov always made him nervous, though he tried hard not to show it.

"So, about our arrangement…" Koslov nodded.

"Your lovely little venue will get its machines, just as I promised." Nick sighed in quiet relief. This had been a long time coming.

"Thank you sir." Koslov smiled benevolently down at him.

"Until we meet again Nicky." And then Koslov had turned, with remarkable grace for a creature of his size, and was strolling casually away, handing the stroller over to one of his guards. Finnick looked over to Nick, then laid back his ears in sudden, unwelcome, realization.

"I forgot my duster in the carriage." He said, and looked helplessly over to where Koslov and his guards had disappeared.

"Go ask Koslov for it back." Nick said with a shrug.

"You ask!" Finnick protested, and Nick smiled.

"Looks like you might have to keep up the act a little while longer buddy."

"I will bite you," Finnick groaned, "I swear to God if anyone stops to ogle at what a _'cute little foxxy-woxxy'_ I am, I will bite your face off." Nick was convulsing with silent laughter.

"That was only once," he chuckled, "and besides, what're the odds of it happening again?"

Better than they seemed, it turned out.


	3. Chapter 3

Two hours and quite a bit of fawning over Finnick later, the two predators made their way back home. Home for Finnick was a van which he had parked in a vacant lot between two buildings. Being one of the smaller predators in Zootopia he was entirely comfortable with the living space, which others would have found unbearably cramped.

Nick clambered into the front passenger seat of Finnick's van, face quite intact despite his partner's threats, and waited for Finnick to change.

"I cant believe you just sat there and let Koslov run off with my jacket." The fennec was grumbling as he threw his baby disguise vindictively across the back of the van.

"Maybe I was looking out for you buddy," Nick said, straightening his whiskers, "there's plenty of ladies out there who like being called 'mommy'…" Finnick snarled menacingly and whipped the diaper at Nick, hooking it around one of his ears.

"I am a grown mammal," he pouted, "this is humiliating! Beyond humiliating, it's-" The collar beeped and Finnick yelped, toppling to the floor with a bang.

"Careful buddy," Nick said, disentangling himself from the diaper, "way too easy to buzz yourself these days." Finnick muttered something indecipherable and got into the driver's seat, moodily putting the van into gear.

"It's worse when you're small," the fennec muttered darkly, "they always set the voltage too high…" The 'they' that Finnick mentioned was the City Board of Safety, which mandated the rules surrounding the Tame Collar. The Board had the power to change the parameters at which the collars issued a shock, and usually did at least once a year. Sometimes they relaxed the parameters (allowing one to get well and truly worked up before getting zapped), other times they were tougher about it. Nick had once been shocked simply for sneezing. Things weren't quite as bad as they were then, but the Board was security minded at the moment, which led to a lot of unhappy predators all throughout the city.

"Just gotta remember that it's all for our own good." Nick said, deadpan. Finnick sighed and turned on the radio. ZNN came spilling out of the speakers, surround sound, probably worth more than the rest of the van put together.

"…ugly scene downtown today, where at least one mammal was injured. The gunman has not yet been apprehended but ZPD Lieutenant Judy Hopps, who heads the task force investigating this string of brutal crimes assures us that, quote, 'we have suspects in mind and are pursuing them with all the force that the law can muster.' Unquote. In other news Mayor Peter Holt, Zootopia's first _predator_ Mayor, has issued a statement of sympathy for the victims, we'll be covering that-" Finnick shut the radio off, mumbling something unhappy.

"Sellout." He grumbled.

"Hmm?" Nick asked.

"Holt. He hasn't done a _thing_ about the collars." Nick hooked a finger under his collar and adjusted it carefully. Tugging too hard caused a shock…as he had found out so many years ago, in the office of a certain Mr. Jumbeaux.

"Why would he?" Nick asked blandly, "he's an otter, it's not like he's a _real_ predator or anything." Finnick gave Nick a look.

"Don't say stuff like that." Nick decided not to respond. He looked out the window, at the passing buildings, and shut his eyes.

They drove for a long time, crossing boroughs as they went. From Tundra Town to the Rainforest District and then out to the industrialized tangle of the Docks. Once upon a time Zootopia had been a port city, but that had since dried up, leaving behind a shorefront full of silent canneries, warehouses and travel depots. This was the very poorest part of the city, and as a result wasn't comprehensively patrolled by law enforcement.

That was exactly why Nick and Finnick had decided to start their business there. Far from prying eyes. They rolled through half empty streets, past crumbling tenements and the occasional abandoned factory. If this whole area just crumbled into the sea, Nick thought, nobody would even notice.

"Alright, it's nearly noon," Nick said, checking his watch, "we're a little late…"

"And whose fault was that?" Finnick asked with a scowl. Nick shook his head slowly, letting out a breath.

"Probably that leopard woman in the park, the one who called you _'a precious little thing.'_ I'm surprised you didn't get buzzed, you were _shaking."_

"My teeth are sharp Nick," Finnick growled, "and designed for murder. You tell Honey about any of this and I will put them to use."

"Honey," Nick said contemplatively, "already thinks you're an adorable foxxy-woxxy, no further proof is needed." If Finnick hadn't been driving then Nick thought that his business partner might have leapt over and made good on his myriad threats of bodily harm. But instead he just scowled and gave Nick a ferocious, sharp toothed smile. Or grimace. Nick couldn't tell.

"I want a bigger bonus for going through the park like that." Nick nodded. That seemed only fair.

"Once Koslov gives us those machines and we get some real money flowing in."

"Fine…if I haven't murdered you by then."

...

Threats of murder aside, the rest of the drive went by quickly, Finnick driving along an off-ramp that meandered its way off of a crumbling free-way. The free-way was more recent than most of the surrounding infrastructure, the legacy of some urban revitalization project or another, designed to bring jobs to the Docks and maybe do something to alleviate the poverty pervading the area. It hadn't worked, but the construction of the free-way had left one important thing behind.

A warehouse. It looked almost like an aircraft hangar, the ceiling curved and lined with great steel struts. On the front, written surprisingly neatly in red spray-paint was a legend that read: WILD TIMES.

Wild Times was quite a distance from anywhere, and very much out of sight of anyone passing by. Perfectly isolated. And that was just the way Nick and Finnick liked it.

"Honey!" Nick called as he hopped from the van, voice echoing off of the sheet metal front of the warehouse. No response.

"Aren't cats supposed to have great hearing?" Finnick asked, sidling alongside Nick. A moment later there came a resounding metallic clang from within the warehouse, and the great front doors slowly began to swing open. From behind them came a rotund, panting figure, wearing what appeared at first to be a ruff of silver around its neck. It rustled and rattled with each movement the cat made.

"Oh, hey guys!" The struggling cheetah huffed, hauling the doors fully open with an appalling squall of neglected hinges. This was Honey, the third and final business partner attached to Wild Times.

"Good news," Nick said brightly, "we've broken the law enough that Koslov is gonna give us those arcade machines I was talking about." Honey's paws fluttered to his cheeks and he let out a decidedly enthusiastic squeal of delight.

"O-M-Goodness," he purred and enveloped Nick and Finnick in a hug, squeezing them tightly to his chest, "you guys are the _best!"_ Finnick stared skyward, perhaps quietly asking God to strike him down. Nick extricated himself, fur mussed from head to tail, but couldn't help but laugh. If there was one thing in the world that Honey loved then it was arcade games.

"Still at it with the foil?" Finnick asked sourly, "you know that stuff's conductive, right? It aint gonna keep you from getting shocked." Honey touched the aluminum foil that he had encased his collar in and then chuckled, wagging a chubby finger at Finnick with good natured reproach.

"I keep telling you, it's to stop them from listening to me." Finnick exchanged a look with Nick.

"Couldn't they just listen to you through our collars?" Finnick asked. Nick rolled his eyes and folded his arms, looking skyward. This wasn't the first time that Honey and Finnick had had this conversation. Nick could already tell what Honey was going to say next.

"I'm very careful about what I _say,"_ Honey said, giving Finnick a look, like all of this should have been obvious, "it's them listening to my thoughts that I'm worried about."

"Okay! Enough conspiracy stuff, let's go get ready for opening." Nick interjected, and strode inside, Finnick and Honey bickering quietly behind him. He smiled as he flicked on the lights, a dozen strings of holiday lights and regular bulbs and everything in between spasming to life.

Wild Times was an amusement park, an illegal one sure, but still an amusement park at heart. There was a carousal in the center of the warehouse, linked up to an alarming array of wires that had been rigged by Honey to tap into the city's power main. Arrayed around the carousal were rides and games of all sorts. Nick liked to say that the only thing Wild Times lacked was a ferris wheel, and that it would be only a matter of time before they jerry-rigged that in too.

"I think we'll put the arcade machines up against the wall," Nick said happily, feeling better than he had all day, "you can link them up with the other wires, right Honey?" Honey nodded vigorously, foil wrapped collar rustling.

"We'll need more batteries though," the cheetah said thoughtfully, looking over the electrical array that supplied power to the ersatz amusement park, "so we can balance what we're drawing from the system with power that we've already tapped. That way we don't accidentally brown out the free-way lights like we did last week." He chuckled nervously, eyes flickering around the room. Nick nodded. He generally let Honey do what he wished with the electrical systems, for behind the cheetah's conspiracy mongering and inveterate flamboyance was a keen understanding of electronics that Nick had yet to see surpassed.

"But everything's stable now?" Nick asked. Honey nodded.

"More than stable, it's _perfect,"_ the cheetah sighed, with real pleasure in his voice, "we could even use the surround sound this time." The surround sound consisted of four great big speakers, one in each corner of the warehouse, that could be used to broadcast music, announcements…or really anything. Nick and Finnick had dug them out of a city building's trash some time ago and taken them to Honey, who had been more than happy to fix them up.

Some mammals read, others whittled, Honey tinkered. And he was good at it. Half of the rides and games in Wild Times had been put into commission by him, and though Nick and Finnick were plenty intelligent, they referred to Honey without hesitation as the brains of the group.

"Honey, I want you up front selling tickets, I'll be right behind you dealing with collars, Finnick, you run the games and sound, alright?" It was the same thing every night, the three of them fulfilling their roles with perfect ease.

Nick looked over his park, paws on his hips, and let out a deep breath. The only time he ever felt truly alive anymore was when he was doing this, letting Wild Times blossom from a shabby old amusement park into a glowing flower of hope and freedom.

"I think we're ready for tonight." He said happily, and meant it.

...

Wild Time's gimmick (and each amusement park worth its salt had an excellent gimmick) was that within its walls nobody wore a collar. This was extraordinary because Wild Times catered exclusively to predators.

Taking off a Tame Collar was was easy enough, each collar was locked by a fairly simple pin and tumbler lock. The real trouble was what happened afterward. The green light on the little box on the side of the collar would begin to blink, symbolizing that the collar had been taken off, and a radio alert would sound after a few moments had passed. This would alert the ZPD, and they tended to respond in force to collar violations.

What kept the collar from sending its distress message to the ZPD was a closed circuit that ran around the length of the collar and was activated upon the lock being closed.

The collar could be opened without alerting, but only if it was opened with an official city key, which was possessed by most doctors in Zootopia. Nick wasn't entirely sure how the key worked, but it was bizarrely shaped and extraordinarily expensive for what appeared to be a regular chunk of metal.

Getting the key was how he had initially met Koslov, and subsequently garnered the polar bear's interest in a then hypothetical predator amusement park called 'Wild Times'. Koslov had paid for a great deal of the equipment in Wild Times since then, in exchange for Finnick and Nick smuggling things for him. They never knew exactly what it was they were smuggling, but did it regardless. They owed Koslov, and stiffing the bear tended to have dire consequences.

Koslov also took a cut of the park's profits, which Nick wasn't exactly crazy about, but accepted nonetheless. When dealing with Koslov Nick kept to the two Ss: Smile and Survive. The fun thing about them was that they weren't just alliterative words but consecutive steps as well.

But even with all of this weighing down upon him at any given time, Nick didn't regret a single thing he'd done to make Wild Times a reality. He thought that his father, wherever he was, would have been proud to see what he had created.


	4. Chapter 4

Wild Times opened promptly at six, and what seemed like seconds afterwards, up came their first customer of the evening. A ferret, looking nervous and unkempt.

"I uh…heard that this was a…" He trailed off, looking meekly up to where Honey was manning the ticket booth, then spoke just barely above a whisper, "is this the place where you can get your collar off?" Honey nodded happily.

"Aww, don't be so nervous little guy, just buy a ticket and go see my friend Nick, he'll help you out." The ferret visibly relaxed.

"Thank you," he gushed, some of the tension draining from him, "it's been kind of a bad day today and I…I…thank you." He dug for his wallet.

"Thirty dollars gets you an hour," Honey explained, and the ferret put the money down without hesitation. Nick watched this from just inside the doors. Seeing people's reactions when they were told that they could get their collar off filled him with a confusing mixture of melancholy and pleasure. Pleasure at getting the collars off. Melancholy at having to put them back on at the end of the night.

Squinting through the twilight at the off-ramp, Nick could see a few headlights approaching, winding down the concrete strip. That was slightly unusual, for the most part people walked to Wild Times, not wanting to attract unwanted attention.

"Are you Nick?" The ferret asked from right in front of him and Nick almost jumped, he'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the little predator's approach.

"Yes I am," Nick smiled, "welcome to Wild Times, Zootopia's finest predator amusement park, where anyone at all, from the biggest bear to the smallest ferret, can kick back and have a hell of a time." Wild Times had been lit brightly up, the carousal was spinning and Nick could see Finnick out of the corner of his eye, fiddling with a pellet gun at the little target range.

Fishing the city key out of his pocket, Nick unlocked the ferret's collar and let it fall open. The green light remained lit. The ferret stared, amazed.

"You really took it off." He said, voice breathy with disbelief. Nick smiled and withdrew a little pad of adhesive backed name tags from his breast pocket. Coupling this with a pen, he held them out to the ferret.

"Before you go, write your name on one of these and stick it to the collar, so we know which one is yours." The ferret did so, paws trembling with excitement, and then wandered off, almost skipping with joy.

Handing the collar over to Honey for safekeeping, Nick returned to his station and watched the customers begin to pour in. He felt relaxed, in good spirits. Running Wild Times might have been difficult and fraught with legal peril, but it felt nice. Like he was home.

As Nick unlocked a badger's collar and asked him to write down his name, he heard a car door slam outside. A moment later the line waiting for tickets shifted abruptly to the left, leaving the door clear.

"Nicky!" Koslov smiled as he strode through the door, predators scattering around him, like the Red Sea before Moses. A healthy portion of them knew who he was and did not want to be anywhere nearby. Nick smiled politely and tried to conceal the little backflip of anxious fear that his heart was doing in his chest.

"Good to see you sir," he said, the badger he was attending to exiting the scene at high speed as Koslov stepped forward, "what's the occasion?" It was rare that Koslov showed up at Wild Times during operational hours, the bear certainly wasn't the type to frequent amusement parks. That was when Nick saw the cub peeking around the side of Koslov's knee. He was dressed surprisingly formal, in a suit, just like Koslov.

"This is my boy Morris," Koslov said fondly, eyes going soft and paternal for a moment, "he turns six today, I thought that he would like to attend your park." With one huge paw Koslov gently maneuvered his son forward, so that he was standing directly in front of Nick.

"Hello Morris," Nick said, feeling decidedly nervous now, "I'm Nick…I own this place." Morris stared, wide eyed, at the lights and throngs of predators milling about the rides and games.

"Say hello to Nicky Morris," Koslov reminded his son, "he's a very important partner of mine." As surprisingly flattering as that was, Nick couldn't focus on the compliment. Morris smiled shyly.

"Hi Nick." He said, and Nick realized that the cub wasn't wearing a collar just yet. Koslov still had his on though.

"Would you like your collar off sir?" He asked but Koslov shook his head.

"No…no need. You have a good night Nicky." The two bears strolled past, and when he looked back at the doors Nick could see a pair of burly polar bears standing guard over them. So that explained the cars…

Relaxing slightly, Koslov and Morris now some distance away, Nick returned to the task at hand. The pile of collars grew and grew, Wild Times soon became quite busy. Occasionally Nick would look back and see where Morris was, but each time he spotted them it looked like the cub was having fun. That put him at ease.

But even as he turned to the next predator in line and asked their name, the lights went out. All of them. All at once. Nick jumped, startled by the outage, eyes adjusting to the gloom. He stood up, eager to cut off any chaos before it could begin.

"It's alright folks, I think we blew a fuse! Just stay where you are and I'll go check it out!" His voice echoed through the warehouse and, to Nick's relief, nobody began to panic. Moving past the silent carousal, still full of cubs, and a half dozen other attractions, Nick ducked into the back. This was where his office was, and the fuse box.

Nick grumbled to himself as he found the fusebox, lamenting the lousy timing of the outage. It had been shaping up to be quite the evening, and while it was still definitely salvageable, Nick doubted that Koslov would be pleased.

Opening it up Nick squinted at the row of fuses. For a moment he stared, unsure of what he was seeing, then something lurched unpleasantly in his gut. One of the fuses was missing entirely.

Turning, Nick opened his mouth to call for Honey when something seemed to detach from the wall to his immediate left, billowing open into a formless, depthless _thing_ that had no right being as large as it was. Nick froze, terror locking his joints, then the silhouette lunged and his vision exploded into stars.

...

The lights were still off when Nick regained consciousness, but within the darkness were flashes, and screams, and bizarre snapping noises of a type that Nick had never heard before. He tried to struggle up from where he'd fallen but found the world spinning around him, vertigo inducing swoops of nausea crippling his gut. His head was in torment and when Nick raised a paw to touch his forehead he found that his face was sticky with blood.

"Honey? Finnick?" He called weakly, but got no answer. He was lying almost in the doorway of the back room, and realized for the first time that beyond the bounds of his own pain and drowsiness, Wild Times was in chaos.

People were hurt out there, panicking, screaming. And splitting the dark with occasional brutal totality were white flashes that lit a portion of the chaos. A fleeing tiger by the carousal, clutching a cub to his chest. A polar bear slumped against the front doors, eyes blank and unseeing.

Nick tried to sit up once more but had barely gained this when the whole scene was obliterated once more, a foot stamping him back down to the floor. He tried to cry out, to claw at his attacker, but instead the silhouette in the darkness hit him hard again. Nick slumped back, spinning crazily in and out of consciousness. Was aware of something bulky being forced into one paw. Tried to reach out and snag the silhouette as it departed but only managed to graze against a silky, yielding surface. Then it was gone. Then he was gone.

...

"Let me go! You fascists, let me go!" Finnick's voice guided Nick back to a shaky sort of consciousness, but the yelp of pain his friend gave jolted him fully awake. He was still lying in the same place, and he hurt all over. His head was in torment and where his assailant had pressed him to the floor was tender and sore.

"Finnick!" He cried out, head yowling in protest at even this small effort, and staggered to his feet, something clattering to the ground as he moved. Looking down, he was momentarily uncertain of what it was…then shied away with a gasp.

A silenced pistol. The real kind. The kind that killed. They had been banned years before and were beyond illegal. Even Koslov didn't mess with them. Nick remembered the flat snapping noises that he had heard echoing through Wild Times. Whoever had come through had been firing at random…at families and…and…the thought was too horrifying to finish.

"Nick, the ZPD's here! Run!" Finnick shrieked from the next room, but before Nick could move so much as an inch the doorway was filled with dazzling light. He cried out, rearing back, and then was hit hard in the chest by what felt like a red hot fire poker. His limbs went stiff and he hit the floor, agony jolting through him as his muscles contracted. A stun-gun, he realized, perfect. Just one more indignity to add to the day's total.

"We got a gun," Nick could distantly hear one of the ZPD officers saying, "looks like he might be our shooter." An officer stepped over him and scanned the rest of the back, the flashlight strapped to his chest blazing a line of white light across Nick's office.

"Clear." The officer said, and Nick felt himself being hauled up, arms pinioned behind his back, none too gently.

"You have the right to remain silent," a female voice behind him began, "anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney then one will be provided to you." Nick craned his head back to get a look at the officer arresting him and couldn't help but freeze in place, utterly shocked.

A young gray rabbit was reading him his rights, briskly professional, cranking his handcuffs as tight as they could go without cutting off blood flow. She met his gaze with some measured dislike, then yanked his cuffed wrists up, forcing Nick to his feet.

So he was getting arrested by a bunny. Perfect. Just perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

The bunny turned out to be named Hopps. Lieutenant Hopps. That sounded oddly familiar to Nick, but he couldn't quite remember why. Despite her diminutive size she was very clearly in charge of the ZPD presence around Wild Times and radiated confidence in her own abilities.

But Nick couldn't focus on that. He was too hurt and stunned and scared. The siren lights stabbed into his eyes, and the incessant thud of his heart in his chest hurt his aching head. He wanted nothing more than to just sink through the ground and disappear forever. To just stop existing. Yet every time he opened his eyes he was still cuffed, still being held tightly by a ZPD goon.

"One dead," Nick heard Hopps say into a radio, from where she was perched atop the open door of a police cruiser, "another two hurt. We cant know until ballistics come back, but I think it's the same gun as this morning." She glanced over to Nick and then turned back to the radio, her next words indecipherable. That look scared him.

Did they really think that he'd shot up his own venue?

"Load them up." Hopps said, setting down her radio and turning to face the half dozen or so cuffed mammals that the ZPD had nabbed. Finnick was on the other end of the line from Nick, cuffed and muzzled. It seemed like he'd bitten one of the officers during his arrest. Of Honey there was no sign, Nick hoped that the cheetah had escaped safely.

Nick was shuttled, none too gently, into the back of a cruiser, where he was joined a moment later by Finnick. The fennec looked ruffled but otherwise unhurt. He gave Nick a sympathetic look, then stared down at the floor, bubbling with defiant anger.

"They think I'm the shooter." Nick sighed. Finnick shook his head curtly.

 _"_ _Idiots."_ He growled, voice almost completely obliterated by the muzzle. A moment later his collar shocked him. There was no more conversation for the rest of the ride.

...

"Face the camera, don't smile, don't blink." A half hour later Nick found himself in processing, facing a spectacularly disinterested elk. He was stood up against a white wall interspaced with black lines designed to measure height. Nick stood three feet and one inch tall, dwarfed by most of the other predators who'd been snatched up by the ZPD.

The camera flashed and Nick saw Finnick being ushered by, behind the camera, clad in a baggy orange jumpsuit and still muzzled. He gave Nick a miserable look and then was gone.

"Turn to your left, don't smile, don't blink…"

...

And then he was in a holding cell, all poured concrete and buzzing fluorescent lights shielded by a cage of wire. There were a dozen other mammals in there with him, four prey animals, all huddled in a corner away from their predator comrades, who were practicing a similar sort of segregation.

Nick had been handed his jumpsuit by a grimacing ram and given what felt like ten seconds to change into it. He had given up his possessions and his personal effects. The only thing he still had that he'd walked into the police station with was his collar.

"Boy you look _rough."_ Grinned a jaguar as he caught sight of Nick, "you get caught over by the Docks?" Nick nodded wearily and slumped down into a free seat, between another fox and a wolf with a black eye and a bloodied muzzle.

"Yep." Nick said tonelessly and shut his eyes. Perhaps sensing that Nick desired no further conversation, the jaguar fell silent. Occasionally some burst of commotion or another would come echoing down the halls, shouts or the harsh crackle of stun-guns. But for the most part there was silence. Nick wished desperately that Finnick was here with him. Anything to insert some familiarity into this nightmarish situation.

"Okay, I gotta ask. Is it true the fuzz killed someone down by the Docks?" The jaguar asked after a few more minutes had drained slowly from the evening. Nick sighed. The rumor mills seemed to be grinding busily away at the truth already.

"No…not the police." He was about to tell the jaguar about the bizarre silhouette that he'd seen when an intercom in the ceiling crackled. The predators all flinched as one.

"Nicholas P. Wilde, approach the door." Nick stood, on rubbery legs, and approached the door, just as the voice had asked him to. There must have been a camera somewhere in the holding cell because as soon as he reached the front of the cell an electronic lock clunked open.

There were two officers out in the hallway, a kangaroo with a stun-gun drawn and aimed, and a goat with a pair of ankle cuffs dangling from one hoof.

"Step out into the hallway." The kangaroo ordered. Nick did so, the goat cuffing his ankles together with practiced ease. They marched him down the hall, which Nick could now see was lined with other holding cells. He wondered briefly just how many mammals were being held in here, then decided that he didn't want to know.

The officers more or less dragged him down a flight of stairs, then along another corridor. This one was wider, once again lined with cells. But this time the doors of each cell were Plexiglass, allowing Nick to see inside. Most of the cells were empty, but in a few Nick could see mammals, predator and prey alike, sitting opposite ZPD officers. From the end of the hall he heard the crackle of a stun-gun, shortly followed by a yelp of pain. Cringing down, he stared at the blank concrete under his paws and forced himself to take a deep breath.

So this was where interrogations happened. He couldn't say that he liked it very much.

The cell Nick was destined for lay about halfway down the hall, and upon being shoved through the Plexiglass door Nick was unsurprised to see the bunny, Hopps, sitting primly on the other side of the steel table that sat in the center of the cell. The two officers followed Nick in, pressing him into his chair. He looked up at them, wondering bleakly if they were going to hurt him, but neither officer made eye contact. They just stared straight ahead, keeping a tight grip on Nick's shoulders.

"Your name?" Hopps asked. There was no real emotion in her voice, just professional request. That scared Nick, down deep in some place that fear had not yet reached. He had always thought of rabbits as hyper, emotional little creatures. And here was this bunny, the very one who had arrested him, staring at him with all the emotion of a trout.

"Don't you already know that?" He asked bitterly. Hopps gave him a look.

"It's called making sure. Now, your name?"

"Nicholas Wilde." He muttered.

"Alright, good. We have the right fox." Nick glanced to the corner of the cell, where he could see a video camera sitting atop a tripod. Everything was being recorded. Honey would have hated it.

"Whoever it was that did the shooting," Nick said, "it wasn't me." Hopps nodded slowly at this before taking a pen (shaped like a carrot, how stereotypical could you get?) and scratching something down on a notepad.

"Before we get to that, tell me about that operation you had out there. What was it called, Wild Times?" Nick nodded very slightly.

"Yes…it's an amusement park."

"Where you removed predator's collars." Nick smiled testily at the accusation.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hopps put something small down onto the table with a click. It was the key.

"I think you do." Nick remained silent, heart thumping heavily in his chest, staring down at the key. He had forgotten all about it in the aftermath of the shooting, yet the ZPD must have found it in his pocket, or on the floor somewhere.

"I want a lawyer." He said. The grip on his shoulders tightened noticeably, enough that it actually hurt. Hopps shook her head slowly.

"Mayor Holt has declared a state of emergency, which means that habeus corpus is suspended. You do know what that is, right?" Nick stared, hardly believing what he was hearing.

"What…?" He asked.

"Habeus corpus is…" Hopps began but Nick waved a paw frustratedly.

"I know what habeus corpus is," he snapped, "why'd the Mayor declare an emergency?"

"There are fifty nine predators running around the city without collars. That's definitely an emergency." Nick felt ill.

"And what's gonna happen to them?" Those predators that Hopps had mentioned, they were his customers, people he knew. And now they were out there, scared and hunted, having fled the shooting without even thinking to turn around and get their collars from Honey's booth.

"Nothing bad, most will probably get off with warnings." Nick wondered where Finnick was, if he was in a room just like this one, getting grilled. Nick hoped that they took his muzzle off. He also hoped that Finnick bit more officers before the day was done.

"You said that there was a dead mammal back at Wild Times," he said, remembering what Hopps had said over the radio, "who was it?" Hopps hesitated, then her mask of professionalism was back.

"Boris Kalyn, an enforcer for the Tundra Town mob." Nick felt an unpleasant sensation of dread prickle up his spine. He had just opened up a line of questioning that he really didn't want to engage in.

"So…" Hopps cut him off.

"So," she said, "we have testimony from two others, _at least_ two others, that Andrei Koslov was there as well. What was he doing at your park Mr. Wilde?"

"I'm not saying another word until you get me a lawyer." He had just enough time to attempt a smug grin before the kangaroo hit him in the side of the head, hard enough that he saw stars. Slumping over in his seat Nick tried to jerk away but was shocked by his collar instead. Somewhere far in front of him, through a swaying sea of agony induced distance, he could see that Hopps had leapt onto the table.

"What was that for?!" She was shouting, a finger jabbing angrily at the kangaroo, "you _cannot_ hit suspects, what's wrong with you?!" The kangaroo let go of Nick, taking a nervous step backward.

"He's just a fox…" The kangaroo muttered, looking slightly ashamed of himself.

"Just a fox…" Hopps sighed and jerked a thumb at the door. "Get out of here and go report yourself, and if you haven't done so by the time I'm finished with this interrogation then I'll do it myself, understood?" For a moment it looked like the kangaroo wouldn't listen to his lieutenant, but then he turned sharply and left the cell, shutting the door with a bang.

Nick watched this with something akin to awe. Hopps returned to her seat and the goat propped Nick back up, maintaining a tight grip on his shoulder. The side of his face felt hot and swollen, and he could taste blood where he'd bitten his tongue while getting shocked.

All in all he felt pretty awful…but for some reason Hopps had stood up for him. Huh.

"I'm sorry about that," Hopps said, looking Nick over, "that was unprofessional…" She was silent for a moment, then seemed to remember what she'd been planning to ask. "Anyway, the Tundra Town mob was clearly involved with your park. Tell me about that." Nick shook his head slowly.

"I'm not a fan of being torn apart by polar bears." Hopps frowned.

"We have you on some serious charges Mr. Wilde. Fraud, felony tax evasion, theft of city electricity…murder." Nick stiffened in his seat.

"That wasn't me." Hopps looked unconvinced.

"We have your prints all over the murder weapon," she said, "and while testimony from witnesses is…inconclusive, we do have some indicating that you were in the area where the shots appeared to come from at the time of the shooting. It doesn't look good." Nick was silent, trying to keep his breathing steady. If he got too scared then his collar would shock him again, and he didn't think that he could stand that right now.

"The lights all went out. I thought we blew a fuse so I went into the back to fix it. There I discovered that one of the fuses had been removed, and when I was turning around to call for Ho…help, I was hit in the head by someone who'd been hiding back there. They looked…strange, that's all I can say." Hopps jotted another thing down with her carrot pen.

"Are you saying you were framed?" She asked, a trace of skepticism in her voice.

"Yes." Nick said defiantly, annoyed by Hopps' disbelief. "I mean, what's more likely, that I shot up my own park, or that someone decided to frame me?"

"But why?" Hopps asked, "who would want to frame some fox?" Her tone was bland, almost infuriatingly so.

"And why would I open fire at my own park?" Nick asked hotly, mindful of his collar, but only barely. He was upset that Hopps would even insinuate this, couldn't she tell how much Wild Times meant to him?

"I think that you're in a business arrangement with Andrei Koslov," Hopps said matter of factly, "and I also think that you don't like that. So, on the night that Koslov comes to your park you plan on killing him and his men. Only, it doesn't go well. Things happen, you only kill an enforcer, Koslov gets away and you get arrested…" Nick shook his head fiercely, glaring at the rabbit.

"You're insane if you think any of that is true." He said spitefully. Hopps was nonplussed.

"Nick," she said at last, Nick was surprised to hear his first name, "I don't think you realize how bad your situation is right now. We have you, dead to rights, on a whole laundry list of charges. And, while most of them admittedly aren't too serious, there's the big two stacked on top. Possession of a weapon and murder will land you in prison for the rest of your life, no possibility of parole. Now, if you tell us about your relationship with Koslov then I could go and talk with the District Attorney, and I'm sure he'd be more than happy to just forget about the big two in exchange for everything you know about the Tundra Town mob. You understand Nick?" Nick shook his head slightly.

"How can I trust you?" He asked, _"any_ of you?" Hopps looked momentarily confused, then sighed.

"I'll give you some time to think about it, but if you don't confess tomorrow then you'll be transferred elsewhere, and I guarantee that whoever you end up in interrogation with is not going to be as nice as me." And just like that Nick was being walked back down the foreboding hallway of glass fronted cells. He felt scared and bone numbingly tired, his body yelling at him to get some rest and try to undo the damage that had been inflicted upon it.

"What time is it?" He asked the goat as they neared the stairs. The goat paused to check his watch, a pretty nice one as well.

"Eleven thirty." That meant that he'd been in custody for a little over four hours. It felt like a lifetime. Nick contemplated asking for his phone call as the goat marched him up the stairs (which had definitely been designed for larger animals than Nick. The ankle cuffs didn't help) but came to the unhappy conclusion that he didn't have anyone to call. Finnick was already in here with him, and Honey, who didn't use phones if he could avoid it (too many people listening in, he claimed) was in hiding somewhere.

The goat undid his ankle cuffs, then sent him back into the holding cell. The prey animals had been moved elsewhere during Nick's absence, replaced by a bruised raccoon who the others were determinedly avoiding.

"Junkie," the jaguar said contemptuously, hooking a thumb at the raccoon, "don't talk to him, he's nutty on something." The raccoon looked up, eyes red rimmed and angry, started to snarl, then yelped as his collar shocked him.

Nick sat down, managed to get his arms, which were still cuffed behind his back, under his legs and in front of him, and leaned back with a sigh.

"They beat you or anything?" Someone asked. It took Nick a moment to realize that the question was addressed to him.

"One of them hit me, but then that bunny, Hopps, she told him off." A few of the predators exchanged looks. The raccoon sang the first lyric of a pop song but got shocked again.

"Hmm." Said the jaguar at last. That seemed to sum up everyone's thoughts on the rabbit lieutenant. Nick shut his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

It did not come easy.


	6. Chapter 6

Nick awoke with a start. The holding cell door was swinging open, a pair of officers standing just outside. Apparently someone else was being taken away for interrogation. Nick glanced around at the others. They were more sullen now, cringing away from the ZPD officers outside.

"Julian Gonzales, step out into the hallway." One of the officers said. The jaguar stood up and traipsed reluctantly forward.

"Good luck." Nick told him. The jaguar smiled a brave smile and then was yanked out into the hallway and ankle cuffed. There seemed to be a pretty consistent set up in terms of extracting prisoners from the holding cells. Two officers would approach, one with a stun-gun drawn and aimed, the other with cuffs.

The officer with the stun-gun was chewing a toothpick, staring balefully at the predators in the holding cell. The raccoon, still huddled on his own side of the cell, snarled at the officer's gaze, then was sent to the floor by a shock from his collar. Nick winced.

"Beasts…" The officer muttered, then flicked his toothpick contemptuously at the raccoon. A moment later the cell door clunked shut. The raccoon whimpered and then staggered back to his feet, glaring at the others.

"How long can they keep us in here?" A wolf asked plaintively from next to Nick.

"Mayor Holt has declared a state of emergency," Nick said, "we have no rights anymore." The wolf let out a bitter snort of mirth.

"We never had any rights to begin with." Wasn't that true…

Nick stared unhappily at the blank concrete floor. Uninterrupted but for the occasional stain and the toothpick that the ZPD officer had flicked at the raccoon. Nick looked at the little sliver of wood, then stepped over to it and picked it up. The raccoon hissed at his approach but Nick ignored him.

Just then the intercom crackled. Nick flinched, as did everyone else.

"Back to your seat Wilde." Nick obeyed, and a moment later the cell door was opening once more. Were they bringing the jaguar back? He'd only been away for a few minutes. From outside, in the hallway, Nick could hear commotion, the officers complaining bitterly, then a yelp of pain that sounded like…

"Finnick!" Nick cried out, jumping from his seat. A moment later the fennec was tossed unceremoniously into the cell, the officers glaring malevolently at him. He was still cuffed and muzzled, his fur mussed where the officers had been restraining him.

"Back in your seat fox." The first officer growled at him, leveling a stun-gun. Nick retreated back to the bench, then the cell door was slammed shut. Nick rushed to grab his friend, hauling him back to the bench. Finnick was saying something, but behind the muzzle Nick couldn't tell what it was.

"Did they hurt you, are you alright?" Nick asked, checking Finnick for injury. But the fennec seemed unhurt, a huge relief. Finnick glared at the rest of the room, his dander still very much up.

 _"_ _You look awful."_ He enunciated as clearly as he could through the muzzle. Nick couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks buddy." Finnick leaned against Nick, looking exhausted and upset, his ears twitching. Nick put an arm around his friend, feeling a great weight lift from his shoulders. The other predators observed this but nobody spoke, they were simply too dispirited. Then Finnick tapped Nick's paw and glanced at him questioningly. For a moment Nick wasn't sure what the fennec was trying to get at, then he realized that Finnick had seen the toothpick. Nick leaned over and spoke in a low whisper.

"One of the guards threw this in, I might be able to pick the lock on our cuffs." Finnick looked honestly surprised, then nodded slowly.

 _"_ _Could work."_ He admitted, words foggy and indistinct. Nick wanted so badly to reach over and try to yank the muzzle off of Finnick's head, but he forced himself to leave the awful thing alone. Blatantly removing restraints would only bring the ZPD crashing in. They'd need to be more discreet.

"I'm gonna do your cuffs first, okay buddy?" Nick asked, and Finnick shook his head vigorously, glaring at Nick.

 _"_ _No. You first…else I'll bite."_ Nick smiled.

"Don't get all noble on me," he chided gently, "you're smaller and quicker than I am, you'll have a better shot at getting out." Perhaps realizing that he wasn't going to get Nick to budge, Finnick reluctantly held out his paws, curling his tail up so that it obscured what Nick was doing from the cameras.

To the best of Nick's recollection handcuff locks were fairly simple and resembled pin and tumbler locks, much like the ones on the Tame Collar. Taking Finnick's paws, Nick examined the toothpick carefully before getting to work. One end was frayed and still damp with saliva, the other sharp and untouched. He'd have to be careful, if the toothpick broke inside of the lock then he'd have no recourse whatsoever.

Inserting the pick gently into the lock, he felt around, finally locating the tumbler that kept the cuff locked together. He pressed against it, the sharp tip of the toothpick flattening and flexing alarmingly before… _click._ Finnick glanced over to Nick, eyes widening. Nick nodded slowly, unable to keep a grin from lighting up his face.

"Alright, one more to go, then me." He popped the lock on Finnick's other cuff and sighed in relief before looking over the toothpick. It looked battered, the wood scored and scarred where the metal of the cuffs had cut into it. He would just have to hope that it held together long enough for him to get his cuffs unlocked.

 _"_ _When?"_ Finnick asked, distracting Nick from his thoughts.

"Whenever they come to move one of us. We'll rush 'em." They would just have to hope that neither of them caught a shock from a ZPD stun-gun in the process.

Sliding the toothpick into the lock of his first cuff, Nick took a deep breath and began to work at popping the tumbler. An excruciating moment later there came a simultaneous _click_ and _snap_. One of metal, the other of wood. Withdrawing the pick, dreading what he might see, Nick found that he'd lost the very tip of his makeshift lock pick. Bad…but not catastrophic.

"One more." He whispered to Finnick with a brave smile, and slid the toothpick in. Then the intercom crackled, Nick flinched…and heard a very unwelcome crunch from inside of the lock. Finnick stared, eyes widening with alarm. Nick looked down, to where a half inch of wood was now lodged inside of the lock of his remaining cuff.

"Nicholas P. Wilde," a voice, just as bored and bland as ever, said, "approach the front of the cell." Nick dropped the ruined toothpick and nodded subtly to Finnick, who nodded back, then stood up. The cell door opened and Nick found himself face to face with the customary pair of officers. One of whom was Hopps.

She was the one holding the stun-gun, her partner, a deer with carefully trimmed antlers, had the ankle cuffs.

"So we meet again." Nick said, letting the unlocked cuff on his right paw slide open just a little further, enough so that he could pop out of it at any given time. He did not move, instead watching Finnick out of the corner of his eye. The fennec was slowly tensing up, gathering his legs under him, ready to pounce.

"Step forward Mr. Wilde." Hopps said, ignoring Nick's words. Nick hesitated, then took a deliberately slow step forward, into the doorway. Another two and he'd be right in front of Hopps and her partner.

 _Come on Finnick,_ he thought with ever increasing desperation, _now or never buddy._

Then something scraped and scrambled behind him and Nick popped free of his right cuff, reaching out and swiping at Hopps' stun-gun. The rabbit's eyes widened and she drew back, but not quite fast enough to keep Nick from knocking her weapon to the side. It went off with a fierce crackle, but the prongs went nowhere but the wall to Nick's left. The deer was moving as well, hooves scrabbling at his holster, eyes wide with sudden terror. Then Finnick lunged past, a dusty gold bullet, and head butted the deer in the stomach, driving him against the wall with a whoosh of exhaled breath.

"10-98," Hopps was shouting into a radio mounted on the shoulder of her uniform, "I repeat we have a 10-98 in the West Holding-" Nick shoved her away and the rabbit went skidding down the hall, coming to a crashing halt against the wall. The deer was gasping for breath, still fumbling for his stun-gun, and Nick jumped over him, Finnick right next to him.

"You remember the way they took us in?" Nick asked, then remembered that Finnick still had his muzzle on. The fennec was working away at it even as he ran, tugging on the nylon straps and trying to pull them over his ears. Finally, with a herculean effort, he ripped the restraint off and threw it over his shoulder.

"Finally!" He growled, then grabbed Nick's paw. "Come on, this way!" Behind him Nick could hear the thunder of oncoming officers, and similar noises of alarm from up ahead.

They ducked into a side hall and came face to face with a jackal janitor, who pressed himself up against the wall, holding his paws up.

"I aint seen you," he said, voice filled with fear, "just go!" Finnick snatched a bottle of some sort of detergent from the jackal's cart, then they were running again. Nick glanced down, confused, then a door slammed open in front of them and a pair of officers rushed into the hall, stun-guns drawn.

Finnick dashed the bottle of detergent on the floor and dove to the side, dragging Nick with him. The prongs of a stun-gun hissed overhead, then came a crash that rattled the floor. One of the officers had slipped, tripped up by the slick detergent, his fellow following a moment later.

"We can't go back," Nick said as Finnick tried to tug him back down the hall, "we gotta keep going." The fennec stared helplessly at the two stunned officers ahead of them, then narrowed his eyes.

"I swear to God if you're wrong…" He muttered, then launched himself across the pool of detergent, past the two woozy officers, who were struggling to gain their feet. The first, a ram, reached weakly out to snag him but missed, tumbling back to the slippery floor.

Slipping and sliding down the hallway, gripping onto the walls, the two fugitives rushed along. They were somewhere administrative now, passing offices filled with frightened sheep and rabbits, all ducking away from their approach.

"There!" Finnick cried, and up ahead, not too far away, was a little neon sign that read EXIT. It was the most beautiful thing that Nick had seen all day.

The pale light of early morning was spilling through the windows and for a moment Nick paused in horror as he caught sight of his reflection.

A battered red fox stared back at him from the window glass, left eye swollen nearly shut, blood crusted over his forehead, fur messy and unkempt, clad in an orange prison jumpsuit. He looked like something out of a nightmare.

Shaking this from his mind as best he could, he leapt against the exit and more or less tumbled down the concrete steps on the other side, Finnick right next to him.

"Stop! Stop right there!" Voices bayed and they flinched away from where officers were rounding the corner of the building ahead of them.

From what Nick could see they had exited into a parking lot, lined with vehicles of all sizes. A stun-gun crackled but the prongs missed, sparking off of a canary yellow convertible. Nick ran for the larger vehicles, Finnick right behind him. They would make for better cover. Hopefully. If the ZPD didn't catch up with them right then and there.

"Under here!" Finnick was yanking on Nick's jumpsuit, more or less dragging him under a ZPD cruiser. Dropping to all fours, like the beasts of old, they scrambled under the wheels, along the row of vehicles.

"Where'd they go? McHorn, Doolittle, establish a perimeter, put out an alert for the entire downtown area, we have two predators on the loose!" To Nick's dismay he recognized Hopps' voice. The rabbit lieutenant was still up and after him. And she sounded close.

They came to a halt, crouched beneath the chassis of a prisoner van, cringing away from the frantic passage of searching officers.

"We have to keep going," Finnick whispered urgently, tugging at Nick's jumpsuit once more, "you heard the bunny, they're setting up a perimeter, we'll be _trapped."_ Nick opened his mouth to say something, probably an assurance, then suddenly the prongs of a stun-gun were right there, embedded in the rubber of a tire, less than a foot from his face. He jerked back, heart slamming into his throat, Finnick wheeling around to face whoever had just taken a shot at them.

"Stop right there!" Hopps shouted, and Nick realized that the rabbit was tracing their path, charging at them from under the row of cruisers. They turned tail and ran, darting out from under the cruisers, towards a low concrete wall that marked the end of the parking lot.

"That's the park," Finnick protested as Nick ran for the wall, "there's no cover there!" But it too late to go anywhere else, the ZPD had cut the rest of the parking lot off. Snatching Finnick up, Nick leapt over the wall, caught his foot and went tumbling into the grass, down a hill, and into a tangle of bushes.

Dazed, scratched and pricked by a dozen thorns, Nick crawled from the bushes, Finnick in tow, and staggered out onto a path. A family of rabbits screamed and scattered at the sight of him, a pig out for a jog immediately reversed directions. Finnick stared behind them and yanked on Nick's paw.

"We gotta go, they're right behind us!" Nick shook the dizziness from his head and ran for it, the shouts of the ZPD right at his tail. At very least, Nick thought, they weren't shooting at them anymore. Too many civilians around.

"Where are we gonna go?" Finnick panted, more panicked than Nick had ever seen him, "we're in the middle of Downtown, I don't know anyone here!" Then, up ahead, the trees and bushes and paths cleared out into a great central pavilion. Nick had never been here before, but he knew the area.

This was Little Rodentia, where many of the mice and rodents of Zootopia lived. And seeing it gave Nick an idea. The officers chasing them were much larger than either him or Finnick. If they went into the rodent enclave then the ZPD wouldn't be able to follow. Most of them at least. That would give him and Finnick some breathing room.

"We're going in there." Nick said, pointing to the spiked metal fence that surrounded Little Rodentia. Finnick stared, then shook his head vigorously.

"No. They'll surround us! No!" He looked to the left, where the bustling streets of downtown just be seen, then back to Nick.

"Follow me, we'll hop onto the back of a bus or something, get back to the Docks…lay low." He stared at Nick pleadingly. Nick opened his mouth, perhaps to agree, then something smacked him hard in the shoulder and sent him spinning away from Finnick.

Stunned, shoulder aching, he struggled to his feet and saw a great black mesh, edged with round black rubber balls lying tangled against Little Rodentia's border fence. The ZPD, he realized, had just barely missed hitting him with a net gun. Finnick was a few feet away now, and Nick shouted at him to run, then the prongs of a stun-gun crackled past him and he clambered up the fence, dropping over the other side, into Little Rodentia.


	7. Chapter 7

He hit the ground running…or at least he would have, had there not been rodents everywhere. Rodents. In Little Rodentia. Who would've thought?

Stumbling out into the middle of the street, Nick just barely dodged a swerving mouse bus and hopped over a crosswalk packed with terrified pedestrians. So Finnick had gone another direction, Nik hoped that his friend was alright, then heard a shout from behind him.

"Stop! Paws up!" Hopps. She'd leapt the fence after him. Glancing back at her, Nick winced at the bunny's determination, ducking around a building, keeping on his toes the whole time, eyes focused on the ground. Already the streets were clearing out, mice and shrews and rodents of all kinds running for their lives.

"Sorry, sorry, excuse me!" Nick could hear Hopps saying, voice shrill with embarrassed apology. She was close. Not good…

And then she was right there, only a few yards away, tottering on one foot, eyes widening as she caught sight of him. Nick ducked down, and not a moment too soon, the prongs of her stun-gun crackling overhead, so close that they made Nick's fur stand up.

Scrambling, on all fours, Nick tumbled out into what looked to be a pavilion of some sort, speckled with cafes and boutiques. Tiny chairs and tables crunched and splintered under him, mice scattering away from the trail of devastation he was wreaking.

In the center of the pavilion, standing atop a pedestal like a monument, was a great big pink frosted donut, advertising some local business. Nick ran forward, just barely avoided crushing a clutch of mice hiding beneath their tables, and clipped the donut, tumbling face first into the street beyond. Pavement cracked and split apart beneath the impact and Nick felt fur yanked away. _Ouch._

And even worse, he could hear Hopps closing in, the rabbit panting, still demanding that he put his paws up. Flipping himself onto his back, he scuttled backwards, squeezing into an alleyway as Hopps lunged forward, just barely missing him.

They were almost to the other side of Little Rodentia now, he could see the black spiked fence that walled the enclave off from the rest of Zootopia, hopefully an avenue of escape.

"Stop! You're only making things worse!" Hopps was darting through the alley, coming after him, face grim and determined. This had become more than a pursuit for her, Nick realized with a little jolt of fear, he had done some damage to her reputation by knocking her over back at the station…now she wanted payback.

"Leave me alone!" He shouted back, voice crackly with desperation, then swung himself over the fence, just barely missing catching his jumpsuit on the spikes. Concrete rushing up to greet him, Nick tucked and rolled, staggering sideways into a recycling bin before regaining his balance. The ZPD hadn't quite managed to get around the entirety of Little Rodentia yet, though he could see mammals in blue uniforms racing to intercept him. A net from a net-gun spiraled lazily past him, then he was running through the park again, cutting for the trees, any sort of cover really.

God he hoped Finnick was okay.

"You're not getting away! Stop!" Hopps again. Christ, how was she still on him? Glancing over his shoulder Nick had just enough time to see a flash of gray fur and blue uniform before the bunny spear tackled him, paws linking tightly around his waist, almost knocking him completely over. Clawing at the bunny lieutenant, Nick caught his feet on something and with a yelp toppled over, down another slope.

Hopps bounced away, losing her grip on him with a frustrated cry, then Nick were rolling across a concrete path, acquiring new and interesting bruises to add to the collection.

Regaining his feet, the world spinning drunkenly around him, Nick attempted to run but instead toppled over into a hedge. Clambering through the roots, he stared crazily back, sure that he'd see Hopps right behind him. But the bunny was still getting back to her feet, wobbling dizzily on the path.

Nick turned and ran, too frightened and desperate to gloat over even this small victory.

The downside of this was that, now that he'd tumbled well off of his intended route, Nick didn't have much of an idea where he was anymore. The park was fading off into community gardens and such, and beyond that was the sprawl of downtown Zootopia, or at least the edge of it. He could smell salt on the breeze, a hint of it at least, which seemed to indicate that the ocean was close by.

"I hope they catch you fox!" A goat shouted as Nick sprinted past, shaking a hoof angrily. That struck Nick as bizarrely funny, then he felt scared all over again. Even if he'd given the ZPD something of a slip, there were civilians all over the place who'd be more than happy to give the police a hint or two.

He'd need to get somewhere more isolated if he wanted to-

"This is your last warning, stop!" Nick stared back over his shoulder.

"Are you kidding me?!" His stomach lurched and his heart squeezed down upon itself. Hopps. Was. Still. Chasing. Him.

The bunny looked haggard, her uniform disheveled and grass stained, her fur mussed and her ears crooked, but she was still in pursuit, and no doubt giving her unit updates as to where she was.

Not good. Nick turned his attention to what was ahead of him, and a moment later made a sharp turn. Not a moment too late either, a ZPD cruiser came roaring onto the park path, officers spilling from it, stun-guns aimed and batons drawn.

Scrabbling, paws slipping out from under him on the slick grass, Nick maneuvered onto a narrow path that took him away from the gardens, into downtown. He would need to negate the ZPD's superior mobility, keep their larger, stronger officers well away from him.

Lungs burning, heart flopping spasmodically in his chest, Nick glanced behind him again. No Hopps. Not yet at least, she couldn't be too far. He was running along a canal now, one that fed into the river.

So far as Nick knew the river had no real name, but it was big, splitting Zootopia neatly in two, downtown and the Burrows (where most of the bunnies and probably Hopps lived) on one side, Tundra Town, the Rainforest District and the Docks on the other.

Seeing the canal gave him an idea. Certainly the ZPD couldn't get any vehicles down on the little causeways that ran alongside the canal's caramel colored waters, nor would they be able to put many officers down there.

He dropped down and knocked the wind out of himself on landing, gasping for breath as he tried to crawl forward, gasping weakly. Stars flashed spectacularly before his eyes, his lungs refusing to fully inflate.

Working his way to his knees, Nick had just barely taken a step when something heavy crashed down, hitting him in the shoulder and nearly sending him spinning into the canal.

"I'm done playing nice fox," Hopps growled from where she'd pounced down on top of him, "give up now or else I'm gonna stun you." She was crouched next to him, stun-gun inches from his face. Nick stared. She'd taken him completely by surprise.

He'd have to act fast. If he hesitated then Hopps' ZPD reinforcements would arrive and he'd be surrounded. Even if he did manage to get the stun-gun away from her. The prongs of her gun looked fearsome, even more so up close.

"Okay bunny," Nick managed to wheeze, trying to force the breath back into his lungs, "let's just calm down here. I doubt those nice folks up there would like to see you shoot an unarmed suspect in the eyes." He flicked a finger up at the walkway above. Hopps glanced up, to where an empty walkway greeted her. There was no one in sight. Eyes widening with realization, she had just started to tense when Nick twisted her paw, forcing her to drop the stun-gun. Kicking and scratching, she leapt away from Nick, eyes blazing with indignation.

"You…tricked me!" She sounded shocked and furious, both at Nick and herself. She reached for her radio.

"Dispatch,, this is-" She managed to say, then Nick leapt at her, forcing her paw off the transmit button. Hopps kicked Nick hard in the stomach and what air he'd managed to get back left his body in an explosive and very painful woof. He landed hard and realized, with a giddy surge of joy, that he'd torn Hopps' radio away from her vest.

"Give it back fox." She said dangerously. Nick didn't hesitate, he dropped the radio into the canal with a plop. Hopps charged, and took Nick off his feet.

For a moment they clawed and scratched, then Nick heard an all too familiar beep and was shocked, his limbs going stiff, all thoughts erased for a horrible moment. Then Hopps was straddling his chest, fiddling with something around his left wrist. It was, he realized a moment too late, the cuff on his handcuffs that he'd managed to unlock back in the station.

With a grin of triumph, Hopps locked the free cuff around her own wrist and Nick stared.

"Now you can't outrun me." She smirked down at him. Nick scowled, then looked over to the waters of the canal. Hopps was looking up to the walkway that ran along the canal, looking for her reinforcements. Nick's mind roiled. He couldn't give up now. He'd come so far, he had to make sure that Finnick and Honey were alright. He had to figure out who had framed him and put Wild Times in such grave jeopardy.

He couldn't stay here, that much was obvious, but where could he go? Especially when he was handcuffed to a ZPD lieutenant. His gaze returned to the canal.

"Do you know how to swim?" He asked. Hopps gave him a puzzled look.

"What?" She asked.

"I'll take that as a yes." He said, and then rolled over, dumping both him and the bunny into the water.

...

The canal was shockingly cold, and the current surprisingly strong. Hopps cried out, then her head went under the water and whatever she'd been about to say was lost in a surge of bubbles. Nick could feel her kicking frantically under the water, scratching at him. For a moment he wondered if she was drowning, then her head poked above water again and Nick could see outrage flaring in her eyes.

"This isn't gonna help-" She went under again, spluttering up after a moment, soaked to the bone but still radiating displeasure. Nick squinted ahead of him, they were going under a bridge now, being swept further and further away from downtown, well away from the ZPD.

"In here!" Hopps shouted, waving frantically at the bank of the canal, "ZPD, in need of assistance!" Nick dunked her, silencing her attempts to give him away.

Hopps came up gasping, then clutched onto his shoulder. Nick flinched, but the rabbit didn't attack him. Instead she dug her claws into his fur and glared, before defiantly looking away.

"I thought bunnies were more buoyant." He said. Hopps gave him a look but said nothing. They were going past warehouses and factories now, the water turning a deeper shade of caramel as they neared the river.

"I cant believe you're making me swim through this…" Hopps sighed in disgust. Nick stared up at the sky and kept low in the water, away from any prying eyes. He felt deeply exhausted, the adrenaline starting to drain away now that the stress of the chase was past.

"You're the one that cuffed yourself to me," he said with a sideways look, "if you don't like it then just unlock the cuffs." Hopps scowled.

"Never." Her tone was deadly. Nick wondered if he could get the keys away from her without incurring significant injury, then decided that he didn't really want to find out. Not when he was floating in the middle of a canal at least.

"We're gonna need to figure this out at some point," he said after a few moments had passed, "us being cuffed together like this isn't going to work." He lifted his arm from the water for emphasis, water trickling from the steel cuffs.

"You could give yourself up," Hopps suggested, "because otherwise the ZPD is probably gonna stun you to death." Nick tried to conceal the twinge of terror that Hopps' words put through him, and probably failed.

"I'm not giving myself up to the ZPD," he said, "not when you people want to put me away for something I didn't do." Hopps sighed.

"You aren't going to get away with this," she said, "I mean, do you really think that a single fox can outrun the entire ZPD? I know you people are sly, but nobody's that clever." Nick shook his head slightly.

"Why'd you stop that officer from hitting me last night?" He asked. Hopps looked caught off guard for a moment.

"What do you mean?" She asked, "anyone would have done that." Nick said nothing for a moment.

"No. Not anyone." Hopps winced slightly at the bitterness in Nick's voice.

"The ZPD is here to protect everyone," she said, a little defensively, "and I'm sure that there are some rotten apples, but the vast majority of officers are good mammals."

"Of course. Whatever you say." He said at last. They kept floating, the chill of the water numbing Nick's fingers and making his teeth chatter.

"Are you just gonna keep floating until we're out of Zootopia?" Hopps asked, "because that isn't going to work. There are going to be boats monitoring the canal exits. You'll get caught."

"No," Nick said, "we're getting out of here before we hit the ocean."

"Oh yeah?" Hopps asked. Nick nodded and then began to paddle clumsily towards the shore, aiming for a little beach pebbled with eroded concrete and years worth of garbage. Hopps left the water gratefully, feeling a little less happy when Nick shook the water from his fur a moment later, showering her.

"So." She said, eyeing Nick skeptically, "what's your grand plan to evade the ZPD?" Nick sat down on the causeway with a sigh, hoping that he didn't look as rough as he felt.

"Here's the deal bunny," he said, looking Hopps directly in the eyes, "I want you to give me the keys to the cuffs. Then we'll go our separate ways. Deal?" Hopps sighed, shoulders slumping in disappointed disbelief.

"Really?" She asked, "you think I'm going to let you go?" Nick scowled, lifting Hopps off of the ground, shaking the cuffs to emphasize his point.

"I'm not turning myself in," he growled, "and I'm definitely not letting myself get arrested either. So give me the keys bunny, or else." Hopps didn't look intimidated in the slightest. But as Nick watched she opened a pouch on her utility belt and brought out a pair of tiny keys.

"Do you know how to swim?" She asked. Nick furrowed his brows in confusion, then realized what Hopps was about to do.

"Wait!" He cried, but it was too late, Hopps flicked her wrist and sent the keys spinning into the murky water. Nick stared in horrified disbelief.

"You didn't…" He muttered. Hopps smirked.

"It's okay," she said with extravagant mock concern, "you're a regular river otter, I'm sure you'll get them back." Nick sat back down, shoulders slumping.

"You are the worst thing that's ever happened to me." He groaned. Hopps raised an eyebrow.

"I'll have to take that as a compliment," she paused, "oh, and Mr. Wilde, you never told me how you plan on evading the ZPD." Nick glared darkly at Hopps. He felt remarkably helpless, stripped entirely of options. He doubted that Hopps would let him pick the cuffs…even if he had anything suitable to pick them with. It seemed that he would have to drag the bunny with him.

But that only brought up more questions. Where would he go? The Docks were a very long way from where he was, and even if he got there he sincerely doubted that he'd have anything at all left to his name. His friends were all in hiding God knew where (or arrested, a dark voice reminded him), he had nobody left.

Except…

Except for Koslov.


	8. Chapter 8

"I wish you hadn't thrown my radio away." Hopps grumbled some minutes later, as Nick tugged her down the causeway, heading closer and closer to the ocean.

"Ditto for the keys." Nick sighed, giving the rabbit what he hoped was a menacing glare. Hopps didn't look intimidated though. Not even slightly.

"You wouldn't be able to open the lock anyway," she said lightly, peering down at her own cuff, "it's all gummed up with silt." Nick paused and squinted at the cuff around his wrist, noting with some concern that Hopps was right. He'd have to sit down and patiently scrape all of the debris out before he'd have even the slightest hope of picking it. Or fitting a key in there.

And Hopps definitely wouldn't let him do that. The rabbit was watching him closely, trailing just a little, so that he had to tug her along, like a mother with an irritable child.

"Where are we going anyway? There's nothing out this way besides factories and the waste treatment plant." Nick didn't answer, just kept walking. He was relieved that Hopps wasn't trying to call for help anymore, but also supremely dispirited. How on earth was he going to get to Tundra Town with Hopps handcuffed to his arm? How on earth was he going to get there even without her in tow?

"Shh." Nick put a finger to his lips, glaring down at the bunny. Hopps folded her arms, looking miffed.

"I offered you a good deal back in the station," she said, "why'd you have to run? _"_ Nick frowned sourly. Was Hopps really so naive?

"Would it even matter why?" He asked.

"Of course it would." Hopps said earnestly.

"Because I was framed." Nick said, watching Hopps levelly. She seemed vaguely disappointed.

"Still sticking to that story?" She asked, sterner now.

"Why would I shoot up my own amusement park?" He asked pointedly. Hopps narrowed her eyes.

"Didn't we go over this just last night?"

"No," Nick scowled, "we didn't. You said that I was plotting to kill Koslov, but tell me this bunny, _why would I do it in the middle of my own park?"_ For the first time since he'd laid eyes on her Hopps quailed, her free paw scrambling for a stun-gun that had once resided in an empty holster on her utility belt. Nick realized right then that he'd been baring his teeth. Hopps looked genuinely frightened, shying back, paw held out in front of her defensively, ears laid back.

"Don't…" Her voice broke, "don't do that." Nick took a half step back, alarmed by Hopps' reaction. Had he really scared her that badly just by getting angry? But beneath that sympathy, boiling up around it in fact, was dark, poisonous anger. At Hopps. At the ZPD. At everything in messed up, broken Zootopia.

"What?" He asked angrily, voice bitter, "don't do _what?_ Are you afraid that I'm gonna revert to my primitive, savage self and _eat_ you? Huh?" Hopps' eyes were wide, and Nick could just about hear her heart pattering away in her chest, wild and erratic.

"No," Hopps protested, face coloring under her coat of gray fur, "just…" Nick opened his mouth to say something even angrier, then the collar beeped and he went stiff with electricity, toppling to the ground, dragging Hopps down with him.

For a long moment he lay still, trying to get the breath back into his searing lungs, the feeling back into aching limbs and strands upon strands of tormented tissue. He thought about Wild Times, Finnick, Honey…everyone he'd come to know and love there. How unimaginably distant everything seemed.

A tear leaked from his eye and ran down the side of his face, along matted fur and bruised flesh. The first in an eternity. He hadn't cried since his father's funeral. Where he'd been alone but for a bison grave-digger, who had asked him to leave after a half hour or so.

Hopps was silent, watching him with wary eyes, catching control of her breath, forcing her heart to slow. They sat that way for a long time, Nick lying dejectedly on his side, hiding his tears from the bunny, Hopps staring, waiting for him to either keep yelling or keep walking. Neither happened.

"What does it feel like?" She asked at last, quietly.

"What?" Nick asked sullenly.

"The collar," Hopps wasn't looking at him directly, eyes focused instead on some point in middle space off to his left, "I've been stunned before, for training, but…"

"It's not as bad as getting stunned," Nick said quietly, "but it knocks you down. And you cant get used to it, it hurts a different way each time." Hopps had nothing to say to that. Nick got up, slowly, painfully, and kept on moving up the causeway. This time Hopps kept up, there was no passive aggressive tugging.

...

After some time they came to a place where the bank of the canal eased gradually into a gentle concrete slope that ran into the water.

"A boat put-in," Hopps observed, "though why anyone would want to boat here I don't-" The growl of an approaching truck cut her words off, and for a moment she glanced at Nick before lunging forward, nearly tugging him off of his feet.

"Hey," he protested, "what are you doing?!" Hopps waved frantically at the put-in with her free paw.

"Hey!" She shouted, "ZPD, in need of assistance!" He tried to clasp a paw over her mouth but the rabbit just elbowed him hard in the side, breaking free again, continuing to shout. Fear, acidy and cold, squeezed Nick's heart. He yanked Hopps back, trying to grab her free paw as she battered at him with it, scowling fiercely.

He could see the truck now, backing into the put-in, a trailer containing a little speed boat preceding it. The driver seemed completely oblivious to the two struggling mammals over to his right, as was emphasized by the bass beats throbbing out of the cab of his vehicle.

"ZPD! In need of assistance!" Hopps repeated, and leapt up, kicking Nick hard in the chest with both feet, sending him spinning to the side, nearly dumping him into the canal. Hopps hit the ground as well and tried to stagger back to her feet before being dragged back down by Nick. He pinned the bunny, pain throbbing through him, his heart thudding unpleasantly in his chest.

"Enough," he breathed as Hopps tried to wriggle free, grimacing up at him, "just be quiet. Please." Hopps stopped, visibly reluctant, and Nick looked up, to where the truck had stopped, the trailer halfway into the water. The music stopped and the driver's side door popped open, a sheep strolling out, spinning his keys on one hoof and whistling something industrial sounding.

"Hey!" Hopps shouted, and Nick pushed a paw over her mouth, but not before the sheep's head turned. He froze in mid-pace, eyes widening as he realized what was going on.

"Oh man," he said, voice high with fright, "you're that fox from the news. Oh man, don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!" He stepped back and Nick leapt up, holding out a paw. Hopps coughed for breath, growling with indignation as she fought her way to her feet.

"Wait!" Nick cried and the sheep froze, shivering, "give me the boat or else the bunny gets it!" Hopps stared at him incredulously.

"No!" She shouted, drawing a line across her throat frantically, "call the ZPD!" The sheep stared from Nick to Hopps and back. Nick bared his teeth. The sheep jumped in fright and dug frantically in his pockets, tossing a key in Nick's general direction before running for his truck. Nick dove forward and just barely managed to beat Hopps to the key, holding it away from the bunny even as she scratched and clawed at him.

The sheep hit the gas and his truck lurched forward, gravel spitting from the hind wheels, the trailer jerking and bouncing, the boat sliding free into the water with an ugly squeal. Hopps stared, her shoulders slumping.

"He was twice your size," she said in disbelief, "how…?" Nick dragged Hopps to the boat and clambered in, the bunny following moodily.

"I'm a vicious predator on the loose," he said sarcastically, "a walking emergency, right?" Hopps scowled at him. Nick looked over the boat, even as it began to drift slowly down the canal. The engine looked fairly simple to start, and there was even a steering wheel. Nick had played enough video games that he suspected he knew what to do.

Hopps turned on the radio, which Nick was relieved to see could not transmit. He didn't really feel like skirmishing with Hopps again for a good long while, he had enough cuts and bruises as it was. Something heavy and electronic spilled from the speakers, sending Hopps scrambling to change the channel. Nick chuckled. That was the sort of music that Finnick liked to listen to…

He sighed and put the key into the boat's ignition, starting the engine with a chug of white foam at the rear of the boat. Increasing the speed gradually, they zipped off down the canal, heading for the ocean.

"That sheep is going to call the ZPD," Hopps said matter of factly, staring at Nick, "they'll be waiting for you at the mouth of the canal." Nick remained silent, didn't answer. Instead he changed the channel on the radio, away from the light, poppy music that Hopps had selected. He didn't think that he could stand anything so upbeat and out of place right now. He landed on ZNN, where an anchor sounded very flustered.

"…nearly two hours since officers lost contact with Lieutenant Judy Hopps, who was in close pursuit of one of the suspects. Over to you Alex." Nick glanced over.

"Judy," he said, "hmm." Hopps frowned.

"What?" She asked defensively, obviously expecting some sort of wisecrack or jibe. Her tone was…oddly familiar. He could remember using it at times, when teachers had picked him out in the hallways, when other students had cornered him at recess…

"Nothing," he said at last, "it's a nice name." Hopps blinked, surprised.

"Oh…uh…thanks." She looked away and then both of them were silent again. On the radio the broadcast picked up again, urgent music playing, a gussied up version of the usual ZNN theme. This was what they preceded emergency reports with.

"Thirty seven of the fifty nine collarless predators have been found so far, and while the vast majority of those have handed themselves in to ZPD custody, there still remain twenty two predators throughout Zootopia who are not wearing their collars. What do you think of that Alex?" Alex, to the best of Nick's recollection (he didn't watch ZNN nearly often enough to care), was a wallaby with something of an outback accent.

"Well Peter," Alex said, voice fraught with concern, "we all listened to Mayor Holt's announcement this morning, so I'd have to just repeat the salient points he made. If you see a collarless predator do not approach them, do not speak to them. Just call the ZPD and stay well away while those brave mammals do their job."

"And speaking of the ZPD," Peter (a moose? Nick couldn't remember the chief anchor's species), said, "we have breaking news surrounding the jailbreak that rocked Central Station this morning, leaving three officers injured and an entire city on the verge of panic. We have information from an unnamed but very reliable source that one of the escapees, a male red fox, has been seen in the vicinity of the Northern Canals, holding Lieutenant Judy Hopps hostage. We cannot completely verify this news, but our source is extremely reliable and we have no doubt that the brave men and women of the ZPD are closing in as we speak." Nick shut the radio off, feeling shaken. Hopps snorted disdainfully.

"A hostage? Who do they think I am?" Nick said nothing. The sheep had definitely called the police, Hopps had been right about that, but the way the news had gotten ahold of it so quickly turned his stomach. He would have to find somewhere to hide, and quick. Before the entire city crashed down on top of him.

And then the mouth of the canal was yawning open ahead of him, only a few hundred yards away. And so were a half dozen red and blue lights, mounted on small, sleek police boats. Nick could see a pair of officers in each, one manning a grappling gun mounted on top of the boat, the other driving.

"Halt!" A gruff voice called into a megaphone, "you are now entering a ZPD checkpoint, please stop and submit to a mandatory inspection!" Hopps gave Nick a hopeful look.

"I promise that the deal I mentioned is still good," she said, "but only if you stop and give yourself up right now." Nick sighed.

"Sorry bunny." He said, and slammed the accelerator forward, the boat's engine whining and groaning as needles shot into the red on two different gauges. The police boats were reacting, moving to cordon him off. As Nick approached he could see other vessels in the water as well, crafts of all sizes.

"Halt! You are putting civilian lives in danger!" The officer on the megaphone shouted, but Nick ignored him, even as Hopps jumped at him once more, trying to shake him off the steering wheel.

"Stop the boat!" She growled, locking arm arm around Nick's throat. He yanked her ear and forced her off, trying to keep the boat steady. With Judy's interference however their craft was going in a jagged series of zigzags, sending civilian boats skittering off in all directions.

"Buzz off." He snarled, and shoved Hopps away, sending her careening into a bulkhead with a bang. A plastic case fell down next to her and popped open, spilling a medical kit and a flare gun out onto the floor. Hopps grabbed for the flare gun but Nick kicked it away, into the back of the boat before yanking the bunny close.

"You're going to get us both killed!" Hopps shouted over the roar of the engine, sinking her claws into Nick's shoulder. He tried to shake her off, then was forced to swerve, just barely missing a fishing boat piloted by an otter. The ZPD was arrayed behind them now, officers skirting the traffic of the canal's mouth, trying to cut Nick off before he entered the open water of the river.

"This is your final warning!" Even from some distance away the voice of the ZPD officer on the megaphone was still perfectly clear, Nick could even hear the rage crackling in the mammal's voice, "stop now or else we're opening fire!" Nick hunched instinctually down and a moment later something splashed heavily into the water just to his boat's left, showering him and Hopps with frigid spray.

"They're using hooks," Hopps said, "to grab onto you and reel you in. Just stop the boat…" Nick shook his head fiercely, batted her paw away from the accelerator and shoved her back against the bulkhead. A moment later something hit the side of the boat with a bang, sliding off with a screech that set Nick's teeth on edge. Hopps winced at the noise and glanced back to the pursuing police boats. They were getting closer now, aiming their grappling hooks. Nick swerved to the right, heading upstream now, a third grappling hook skimming the back of the boat, missing them by only a few inches.

They were headed for Tundra Town now, and Nick's heart leapt with joy as he saw that the borough was maybe only a mile away. All he would have to do was hang on for another minute or so, then he'd be ashore. Just another minute then-

The fourth hook hit the railing of the boat and tore it clean away, scoring a great big hole in the deck as it slid away, tearing aluminum and plastic in equal measures as it bounced into the water. Hopps flinched away and Nick suddenly caught a whiff of something acrid and sour.

Gas. the hook had torn open their fuel tank.

He glanced wildly back, then swerved again, aiming for the Tundra Town docks, now only a few hundred yards away. The police were nipping at their heels now, unaware of the fuel pouring into the water after them. Hopps gripped onto Nick's shoulder.

"The boat is soaked in fuel, we have to get off of here!" She was shouting. Nick didn't budge. They were almost there, just a little bit further…

He got up and moved to the front of the boat, crouching on the bow, eyes slitted against the wind, staring up at the docks. To where possible salvation lay.

"We're gonna jump," he shouted to Hopps, "on three. One…Two…" Before 'three' could even form in his mouth the fifth grappling hook snagged the rear end of the boat, sending Nick hurtling off the front. It also set off the flare inside of the flare gun, and with a resounding bang that echoed around the docks like the word's largest firework, Nick's stolen boat went off like a bomb.

The blast hammered Nick into the water with an impact that felt he was diving into a lake of broken glass. For a terrible moment he was completely unable to move, Hopps lying similarly stunned in the water next to him. Then the cold hit him, contracting every bit of warmth in his body into a little infinitesimal ball that felt about the size of pinhead. He forced his arms to work, forced his legs to kick, and with a great gasp broke the surface of the water, Hopps following a moment later, sobbing for breath, shivering.

"W-we've gotta g-get out o-of this w-w-water." She stammered, teeth chattering. Nick almost didn't hear her. He was staring back about twenty yards, to where a field of burning debris littered the surface of the water, sending up plumes of oily black smoke.

"C-come on." Hopps tugged at the chain of his cuff, and Nick slowly turned back to shore, paddling awkwardly up to the nearest dock, a decrepit old thing that seemed entirely, mercifully empty. Nick hauled himself up onto it and dragged Hopps up after him. For a moment they sat there, shivering in the cold, breath steaming in Tundra Town's frigid air.

"W-what now g-genius?" Hopps asked. Nick narrowed his eyes, about to say something ugly, when there came a click from behind them.

"What's next is that you tell me what you're doing here." Nick stiffened. Hopps turned quickly, to where a polar bear had just unfolded a telescopic stun baton. Nick turned to face the bear, an apologetic smile on his face.

"Oh…uh…hello Konstantin," the bear he was looking at now was one of the enforcers that had been at Wild Times the night of the shooting, he did not look at all happy to see Nick, "it's a funny story really…" He chuckled nervously. Hopps glanced from the bear to Nick and back again. Konstantin touched the side of a wireless headset he was wearing and nodded to himself.

"It's Nicky. And the little police bunny." Hopps bristled at that description but Nick yanked on her cuff, keeping her in line. Konstantin looked to where Nick and Hopps stood, with philosophy deliberation. "I could deal with them here and now…the harbor's a big place. They wouldn't be found." Nick felt what little warm blood was left in his body turn suddenly to ice. But the bear didn't move, instead he listened to something over his headset, then looked back to Nick and Hopps.

"Koslov wants to see you," he said to Nick, with no fondness in his voice. His gaze turned to Hopps, who he regarded for an uncomfortable moment, "and the little bunny too." He smiled to himself and then folded the baton back up, hooked one finger around the chain connecting Nick and Hopps, and strolled casually back to his car with them dangling helplessly from one great big paw, like a brace of freshly caught fish.


	9. Chapter 9

Konstantin drove a Purrsedes, because of course he did. Being an enforcer obviously paid well, and though Nick was still soaked and numb with both terror and cold, he could not deny the quality of the faux leather seats. The front passenger seat more than accommodated both him and Hopps, and they stayed very still while the bear made his way around the front of the car, shutting their door, walling them in.

"You know this guy?" She asked quietly, voice shrill with barely contained fear. Nick nodded very slightly, then the driver door opened and Konstantin slid in, buckling his seatbelt before reaching over, towards Nick and Hopps. They flinched in unison, but the polar bear merely fastened their seatbelt over them, leaving a band of heavy fabric pressing them into the back of the seat.

"Safety first." The bear said solemnly, then they were off.

...

They drove for some time, the sliver of sky that Nick could see through the windshield never changing from its usual battleship gray. Tundra Town was always like this, he'd never seen so much as a scrap of blue sky in all the time he'd spent there. Yet the Arctic mammals liked the austere weather just fine, Nick could hear music playing from some outdoor establishment, the tunes undergoing a weird Doppler effect as the car hummed past.

After a little bit Konstantin turned on the radio, thumbed past a medley of music channels, and finally settled on ZNN, after giving Nick and Hopps a judicious glance. Hopps kept her gaze directly in front of her, face expressionless. Nick could tell that she was scared, but the bunny lieutenant was doing an excellent job of hiding it.

"…don't let this recent news ruin the excitement of Gazelle's upcoming Animalia concert, a once in a lifetime experience brought to us by our sponsors at ZMI Records, bringing Zootopia the music that it deserves." Nick tried to shake some more moisture from his fur but this only invited a disapproving glare from Konstantin, who did not seem to like what Nick was doing to his vehicle's upholstery. Nick decided that it would be a good idea to go back to listening to the commercial…or whatever it was.

"We hate to interrupt our sponsors but we have breaking news," Alex the wallaby was saying, "there has been an explosion in Tundra Town harbor, concluding a boat chase that pitted ZPD officers against one of the escapees from this morning's jailbreak. It is still uncertain what caused this explosion but according to ZPD officers on the scene, Lieutenant Judy Hopps, the hostage taken by this deranged fugitive, was aboard the boat at the time of the blast." At this Hopps' eyes widened and she gasped.

"They think I'm dead!" She cried out in anguish, "oh, my parents…" She trailed off and sank back down into her seat, looking deeply concerned. Somehow it hadn't occurred to Nick that the ZPD might think him and Hopps dead after the boat explosion, he'd been too busy trying not to think too hard about what Koslov might want to see him about.

"We can only offer our hopes and prayers to the brave officers searching Tundra Town harbor for any trace of this brave policewoman," the wallaby continued, voice solemn and almost reverent, "so that we may yet snatch some glimmers of hope and positivity from the chaos and fear of this day." No mention of him, Nick thought sourly. But that was to be expected, he _was_ a deranged fugitive after all, hopes and prayers weren't usually directed towards those.

Then they were pulling inside of a building, the sky replaced by glowing fluorescents and stained concrete. Konstantin unbuckled their seatbelt and Nick stood hesitantly up on the seat, peering over the dashboard.

They were in an underground parking garage, empty but for a few other Purrsedes luxury models, very much identical to Konstantin's. The bear opened their door and snatched them up once more, leaving them dangling in mid-air as he walked towards an elevator.

"So," Nick said, trying to keep his voice even, "how's the family Konstantin?" The bear gave Nick an annoyed glance.

"Shut up." He growled, and Nick obeyed. Hopps was looking desperately around, eyes wide and teeth gritted. She said nothing as they got into the elevator. Still said nothing as they ascended two stories, a few staticky snatches of Gazelle playing over the speakers before the doors slid open.

Nick gulped, realizing just where they'd been brought.

The Winter Palace, Koslov's headquarters. He'd only ever been here once, to discuss business with Koslov…or, more accurately, have business talked at him by the bear.

Below him he could hear faint strains of music, echoing from the establishment below. The Winter Palace was nominally a restaurant, but the upper story, where Nick found himself now, doubled as the lair of the Tundra Town mob. Hopps nudged him. Nick glanced over.

"We've got to get out of here," she whispered urgently into his ear, gripping onto his shoulder with her free paw, "they're going to kill us." Nick said nothing back. As terrifyingly certain as Hopps' words seemed, why would Koslov have brought them here, to the very heart of his operation center, if he was just going to kill them? Wouldn't he have just had Konstantin drown them back at the harbor, like a litter of unwanted kittens?

Up ahead of them a rustic wooden door opened and out stepped Koslov, as snappily dressed as ever. Nick couldn't help but fling away from the bear's gaze.

"Thank you Konstantin," the crime boss said, patting his enforcer on the shoulder, "you can set them down now." Konstantin dropped them, Nick hitting the carpet with a thud, Hopps landing on her feet. He picked himself up, facing Koslov, trying to look halfway respectable.

"Sir," he said, "I know that this looks very bad, but I can explain-" Koslov cut him off with a disinterested wave of his paw.

"Follow me Nicky." He said, ignoring Hopps completely. The bunny stared up at the bear, eyes darting over every bit of him. Koslov had been at the top of the ZPD's hit list for years, to have an officer literally standing right in front of him, powerless to act, must have been infuriating.

Koslov turned and went back through the door he'd come out of, Nick and Hopps trailing behind, followed in turn by Konstantin, who remained close behind, erasing any possibility of escape.

The room that they were being brought into seemed to be Koslov's office. It was formal and richly decorated, his desk a carved slab of timber from some far off land, his walls arrayed with bookshelves and tapestries of all kinds. If Nick hadn't known Koslov better he would have said that the bear's office looked like that of an especially adventurous university professor. A grandfather clock ticked peacefully away in one corner, showing that it was nearly eleven in the morning. The pendulum, Nick noted with a hint of unease, had been carved into the head of a bear.

"Sir," Konstantin said from behind the two handcuffed mammals, "Mr. Fink is finished with Morris." At that a stoat, clad in a white dress shirt that perfectly matched his snowy fur, Tame Collar just about hidden behind the shirt's high neck, stepped around Konstantin and approached Koslov with a reverent bow.

"Your boy looks lovely sir," he said, scarcely giving Nick or Hopps a look, "more than presentable." Koslov smiled.

"You have talented paws Alexei, and I understand if you're busy, but you're more than welcome to stay for the ceremony." Fink shook his head regrettably, paws folded behind his back.

"My apologies sir," he said with more than a trace of regret, "I have an appointment near the docks that I must not be late for." Koslov nodded.

"Of course, I'll have Konstantin drive you, I understand that the ZPD is out in force today…we wouldn't want you getting delayed." Konstantin's eyes flickered down to Nick and Hopps and he opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but instead nodded.

"Of course sir." He said humbly, and then was gone, the stoat in tow. Koslov eyed Nick, face expressionless.

"You have come to me at an interesting time Nicky," the bear said, voice almost a sigh, "my boy is to put his collar on today." Hopps glanced over to Nick's collar, then back to Koslov, visibly interested behind her fear. Nick forced himself to smile, trying to stop shivering.

"They grow up so fast…" He managed. Koslov folded his paws atop the surface of his desk, sending a few papers wafting gently away. He took no notice of them, eyes firmly on Nick.

"And not only have you come to me on the day my son is to get his collar on…you have also come to me handcuffed to an officer of the ZPD." Hopps' nose twitched. Nick could feel the fur on the back of his neck rising. There was menace in Koslov's tone, not overt…but definitely present.

"It's been a crazy morning sir…" Koslov smiled thinly.

"And a crazy night." Nick nodded evenly, feeling very small and vulnerable in front of the polar bear.

"I was framed sir." He said, wondering if Koslov believed, like the ZPD, that he had been the shooter. Unpleasant things certainly lay in his future if the bear did.

"I have no doubt about that," Koslov said, waving away Nick's concerns, "if anyone in your group would have tried to kill me it would have been that mouthy fennec friend of yours. He certainly has the temper…" Nick nodded, relieved.

"About Finnick, has the ZPD…?" He couldn't complete the question, too frightened of what the answer might be. Koslov shook his head.

"He has vanished like smoke in the wind, to the Rainforest District if the whispers I'm hearing are correct." That was probably the best news Nick had heard all day. He smiled a relieved smile, then Hopps spoke, and fear surged anew.

"Mr. Koslov, do you have any rivals that might have tried to kill you?" Koslov's eyes fixed on Hopps, a bemused smile on his face.

"So the little bunny talks," he said, "extraordinary, especially considering that this is a little _dead_ bunny if ZNN is to be believed." Hopps remained resolute. Nick stood stiff and unmoving, more frightened than ever. Was Hopps even aware of how much danger she was putting herself in?

"Yes," she said stiffly, clearly annoyed by Koslov's words, "the bunny talks." Koslov chuckled, gently amused.

"I have no rivals," he said, "because I do not allow them to grow to become rivals." A cold rush of fear clenched Nick's heart. Was Koslov talking about…?

"You kill them." Hopps said coldly, folding her arms as best she could, glaring up at the bear. Koslov looked surprised for a moment, then laughed.

"Your mind goes to dark places little bunny," he chuckled, "I do not kill mammals if I don't have to. If I see someone starting up a lucrative venture then I become involved, I form alliances. I expand through benevolence, not murder." He wagged a finger at Hopps in mock reproach. Hopps glanced from Nick to Koslov, visibly confused.

"But then…if you don't want to kill each other…?" Nick sighed, irritated.

"That's what I'm trying to find out," he said, "who framed me. And why." At that moment the grandfather clock in the corner began to chime. Nick and Hopps both jumped. Koslov got up from his desk.

"It's time," he said, "for Morris to become a man."

Five minutes later Nick and Hopps found themselves seated in what looked like a concert hall, sharing a seat, flanked by burly enforcers who regarded them with ill disguised dislike. At the front of the room was a stage, bathed in white light, where Koslov and an elderly bear that Nick did not recognize were standing. Was that Koslov's father?

"I am pleased to welcome all of you to a very important day in the life of any young predator," Koslov began, voice solemn and reverent, "a day that represents the closing of the gulf between youth and adulthood, childhood and maturity. Today my boy Morris will become a man." The hall, packed with bears and ferrets and stoats and Arctic mammals of all kinds, all associates of Koslov, applauded politely. Hopps glanced over to Nick.

"Do you all take it so seriously?" She whispered, puzzled. Nick gave her a look.

"Gotta make it seem exciting, otherwise no one would ever want to put it on." Hopps had nothing to say to that. A moment later, from the back of the room, Morris came walking out, head held high, a smile on his face. He looked over the crowd, then paused, spotting Nick.

"Hi Nick," he smiled, "your park is cool, even if those fireworks at the end were scary." Fireworks? Oh…

Nick forced himself to smile.

"Thanks Morris, I'm glad you liked it." Morris blinked, the smile fading from his face as he spotted the handcuffs linking Nick and Hopps.

"Is my daddy mad at you?" He asked, surprisingly solemnly. Nick shook his head vigorously.

"No, of course not." On the stage Koslov made a discreet little gesture, beckoning for his son to keep walking. Morris smiled apologetically.

"Okay, bye Nick!" He kept on going and Nick breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Hopps kept her eyes focused on the ceremony ahead, or at least what slivers of it she could see through the forest of larger mammals ahead of them.

The older bear was holding an ornate lacquered box, and as Morris reached the stage he opened it, revealing a collar just like the ones that nearly everyone in the room was wearing. The green light glowed steadily, Nick's heart did a complicated flip in his chest as he tried to equate the sight of the collar with the excitement on Morris' face.

"Today you become a man Morris," Koslov said seriously, getting down on one knee and placing the collar around his boy's neck. Though Nick could not tell for sure, he was certain that Koslov shut his eyes as the collar clicked shut. Morris jumped up in excitement and hugged his father. The audience applauded, Nick joined in, Hopps a moment later. She seemed confused by the solemnity in the eyes of the predators surrounding her.

A paw settled on Nick's shoulder a moment later and as the audience began to get up to offer Koslov and Morris their compliments, they were hustled from the room.

"Everyone seemed so…sad." Hopps said quietly as they were marched back towards Koslov's office. Nick said nothing for a moment.

"Wouldn't you be if you were strapping a shock collar around a family member's neck?" Hopps frowned.

"I know it's not ideal," she said, a little hotly, "but the collar is for everyone's protection, especially yours." One of the polar bears escorting them made a low growling noise in his throat, glaring malevolently down at Hopps.

"Shut up." He said, and silence resumed. They entered Koslov's office, the bears remaining just behind them, paws hovering over holsters holding stun batons. They remained this way for some time, the last of the harbor water leaving their fur. Nick could see a ghostly reflection of them in a gold paperweight on Koslov's desk. He looked frightened and unkempt, fur matted and spiky. Hopps didn't look any better.

Finally, just as Nick felt that the slow, methodical tick of the grandfather clock in the corner would drive him insane, Koslov stepped in, straightening his suit as he moved back to his desk.

"Was that your first time seeing a cub get his collar little bunny?" The bear asked. Hopps nodded slowly, visibly displeased at what Koslov was calling her.

"Yes…"

"And what did you think?" For a long moment there was silence, then Hopps spoke.

"Your boy seemed excited." An understatement. Koslov regarded Hopps, expression neutral.

"And he will be, up until he receives his first shock. He knows that the collar shocks predators when they're bad, but that is just a thought, and it will be until it happens to him. And at that moment my little Morris will have left his childhood behind forever." His gaze was hard. Hopps met it, but there was uncertainty in her eyes.

"I know that the collar may seem harsh Mr. Koslov but-" Koslov waved her words away with one paw, slightly miffed.

"Spare me little bunny," he sighed, then shook his head, smiling to himself, oddly reflective all of the sudden, "I should have known better letting you in on this terrible little truth. For as smart as you are, you still cannot see anything you don't want to." Hopps was silent, Koslov contemplative. Nick shifted from foot to foot, supremely uncomfortable. Why was Koslov having a conversation with Hopps? What was there to gain?

"I've been on the ZPD for five years Mr. Koslov," Hopps said at last, "I've spent a lot of time around predators and-" Koslov cut her off once more.

"I know all about you," he said, eyes flat and disinterested, the enchantment of the conversation lost, "valedictorian of your class in the police academy, first rabbit detective, first rabbit Lieutenant, youngest task force leader in city history. You're distinguished, smart, courageous…yet blind as well." Hopps looked taken aback. She opened her mouth to speak but once more Koslov beat her to the punch.

"I learned all of that from the radio," he continued, "where ZNN and their subsidiaries are mourning your heroic sacrifice. They believe both Nicky and you to be dead and exploring the bottom of the harbor. Incorrect, but an understandable mistake. What is not understandable is how they are using this news."

"Using?" Hopps asked warily. Nick was staring at the carpet now, antsy, trying to resist the urge to ask Koslov if he could just break the handcuffs right then and there. He did not want to be anywhere near Koslov and Hopps right now.

"Using." Koslov confirmed, "I take it you do not listen to the news much." Hopps shook her head slowly.

"In the mornings," she said, "but that's mostly for traffic reports." Koslov seemed gently amused by that.

"Well, outside of your traffic reports there are dark things happening. There is real anger surrounding your apparent death in the harbor…anger that is being leveled not only against Nicky, but predators as a whole. It's not implicit, but I can feel it." His tone was grave, eyes still flat and expressionless. Hopps glanced over to Nick.

"Surely they wouldn't be _that_ divisive, right?" She asked, alarmed by Koslov's words, "predators make up ten percent of Zootopia…that's a lot of mammals to blame for the actions of one fox." Koslov looked annoyed again.

"I'm not going to waste my time trying to get blind eyes to see the truth," he said stiffly, "instead I'm going to make you an offer. I will let you walk out of here, alive and unharmed, in order to defuse the tensions that your apparent death have ignited. In exchange you will remain quiet about what you have seen here, as well as the whereabouts of Nicky. So far as you know he's still in the harbor, the chain connecting your cuffs was snapped in the explosion. Do you understand?" Hopps stared, blinking in disbelief.

"What?" She asked. Koslov remained silent, awaiting an answer. Nick elbowed Hopps none too gently in the ribs.

"Take the deal." He hissed. Hopps flashed him an annoyed look.

"What about him?" She asked, pointing to Nick, voice shrill with outrage. Koslov's eyes flickered over to Nick for a moment.

"I don't see how that's relevant to our discussion." He said flatly. Hopps persisted, even over Nick's increasingly frantic attempts to get her to be quiet.

"Mr. Wilde is a wanted fugitive," she said hotly, batting away Nick's paw, "and so are you…so is everyone in this room but me! Do you really think that I'm going to take a deal that lets criminals evade justice just for the sake of satisfying some…some persecution complex aired by a _mob boss?!"_ Koslov's eyes darkened with anger. He stood up, towering over Hopps and Nick. Nick quailed, falling back to the floor, fur bristling out with fright. Hopps stood steady, staring Koslov in the eye, her terror kept in check by steely determination.

"Be careful what you say little bunny," Koslov growled, but somehow didn't reach forward and batter Hopps into the ground. Instead he collected himself, and in a much calmer voice continued, "if it makes you feel any better, there is one 'criminal' in this room who will not be evading justice." Hopps blinked, confused. Nick got slowly up, glancing back. But there were only the two polar bear enforcers behind him. Other than Koslov that left…him.

"What…?" He squeaked. Nick felt the tip of a stun baton prod his back, a gentle reminder from the enforcers not to try and run. Hopps looked stunned, and more than a little horrified by the insinuation.

"What are you going to do with him?" She asked. Koslov nodded and suddenly they were dangling once more, the chain of their cuffs held by one of the enforcers. The second enforcer whipped away the carpet they'd been standing on. Beneath it was a trap door, which opened up to reveal a metal lined chamber with a grated floor.

"You have no doubt heard rumors of this device," Koslov said, taking what looked like a television remote from a drawer in his desk, "it must be a privilege for an officer of the ZPD to see it in the flesh." Nick quivered, terror pulsing through him. If the collar shocked him right now he doubted he'd even feel it. Hopps stared below her, eyes wide, nose twitching.

"This is…" She trailed off, fright locking her voice entirely.

"My ice machine," Koslov said cheerfully, taking a seat on the edge of his desk, only a few feet from Nick and Hopps now, "where Nicky will be going," his eyes found Hopps', "and you too if you decide not to take my deal." Nick stared pleadingly at Koslov.

"But why?" He asked plaintively. Koslov poked him in the chest with one finger, setting him swinging, much like the pendulum in the grandfather clock.

"Because you no longer serve a purpose for me Nicky," he said, tone darker, "you have lost your park, a place which I invested greatly in, and perhaps more importantly you have lost my trust. You put Morris in danger the night you let your place get shot up, you know that? I had to spend half the night claiming him down, assuring him that it was fireworks he heard, not gunshots. Do you know what that's like Nicky? Knowing that your only child was nearly shot and killed because of another's negligence?" Nick shook his head fearfully. "No. Of course you don't. And one final thing Nicky, you have lost my serenity. Because the city is frightened now…more than ever. And that," Koslov poked Nick in the chest again, harder, "is not," poke, "good," poke, "for," poke, "business." He fell silent, watching Nick swing from his chain, cringing away from the bear's gaze. Sighing, he turned back to Hopps.

"I suppose it was my fault going into business with a fox," he said, half to himself, half to Hopps, "there are good ones, but so many are…shifty…irresponsible. I ought to have known better." Nick stared down at Koslov's murderous ice machine. Hopps stared at the bear in shock.

"But you're both predators," she said, voice airy with fright, "shouldn't you be working together?" Koslov smiled tiredly.

"Just because he's wearing a collar doesn't mean that he's a real predator." Nick felt sick. Could suddenly remember saying something eerily similar about Mayor Holt. It felt awful to be on the other side of a statement like that.

"You can't do this," Hopps said, jabbing a finger at Koslov, "killing us wont make the city a better place." Koslov shrugged.

"No. But there will be other opportunities," he contemplated the two dangling mammals for the moment, then looked up to the enforcers, "drop them in." Nick began to groan. Koslov paused and then smirked.

"Nicky," he chided, "cant you go to your grave like a man?" He turned back to the desk and withdrew a curiously shaped air gun, "I could always tranquilize you if you'd like. You wouldn't feel a thing…" Before he could go through with his promise, Hopps made her move.

While Koslov had been detailing exactly why he planned on dropping Nick into his ice machine, Hopps' paws had been slowly moving towards her empty utility belt. Nick had noticed this, but somehow not realized what she was planning on doing. As the enforcer holding them moved to lower them into the chamber, Hopps unclipped her belt, and snapped it at Koslov. More specifically, at the remote in his paw.

The clip of the belt hit home and suddenly the chamber was billowing white fog, reserves of liquid nitrogen flooding it. The enforcer holding them cried out in shock and reared backward, grip loosening on the chain. Nick kicked out and suddenly they were tumbling through icy fog, rolling under Koslov's desk. The room was in chaos, bears shouting and Koslov roaring in rage.

"Bunny," he howled, "you will not leave this room alive!" Hopps muttered something defiant and pointed to the door, just barely visible through a pandemonium of searching bears and billowing nitrogen fog.

"We need to go." She hissed urgently, and tugged Nick along. They scrambled along the side of the room, almost on all fours, tugging each other erratically from side to side by the chain of their cuffs. Behind them Koslov kicked the trap door shut and the fog began to disperse.

"There!" One of the bears cried out, and Nick lunged forward, just barely making it through the doorway ahead of the bears. They turned left, heading down the hall, bears spilling out into the hallway after them.

"Catch them! Catch them!" Koslov was shouting, then came a strange pneumatic hiss and suddenly Hopps had tumbled into Nick, almost bowling him over. She stared in horror, to where a green tipped dart had hit her in the arm.

"Oh sweet cheese and…" Her words dissolved into a slurred mess, even as she clumsily ripped the dart out and cast it aside. She kept going for another half dozen steps, then fell into Nick, eyes half open, helpless as a newborn.

Nick stared behind him, to where the polar bears were tripping over each other trying to get at him. Koslov reared above them, head pinched into one shoulder. His collar was shocking him, Nick realized, but the bear was angry enough that it didn't even faze him.

Not good.

"Come on Hopps," Nick grunted, heaving the tranquilized bunny into his arms and staggering down the hall, "come on…" A door slammed open ahead of him, disgorging more bears. Beady eyes fixed on him, sharp teeth were bared. Nick froze. He was trapped.

But was he really? The hallway was lined with windows on one side, snow falling gently past them. There were chairs under each window, and Nick clambered laboriously up onto one of them as the bears advanced, more slowly now, confident that they had their quarry trapped.

"Come on down from there foxxy-woxxy," one of the bears taunted, "you aint got nowhere to go."

"Yeah," added a second, "what're you gonna do, jump?" Covering his head as best he could, Nick did just that, smashing through the window glass and leaving hallway full of stunned bears behind.

"You idiot," scowled a third bear, punching his fellow in the arm, "you gave him an idea!"


	10. Chapter 10

There was an elastic instant of frigid free fall. Nick's eyes streamed in the cold air, he could see the broken window rising away from him, growing smaller and smaller. He hugged Hopps to him and then they hit the angled side of a snowbank that had built up against the side of the Winter Palace.

The breath exploded from Nick's body in a jagged puff of steam, then he was rolling, the world blurring into a sickening array of colors around him. When he finally, mercifully, came to a stop, he could hear voices above him. Rough, frantic ones.

"He jumped!" Exclaimed one.

"Get down there, follow them!" Snarled another. Nick recognized this as Koslov's, contorted with fiery rage. Nick forced himself to his knees but was almost yanked back down by the tug of the cuff against his arm. Hopps was lying limp, eyes glazed and half open, a bead of blood staining her fur where the dart had hit her. She was completely out of it, Nick doubted that she had even noticed their trip out of the window.

Yanking Hopps' limp form closer to him,he gathered the bunny into his arms and tried to stand before falling to one side, the world swooping unpleasantly under his feet.

"We've gotta move bunny," he wheezed desperately, "come on…" Looking around him, Nick saw that he had tumbled into an alleyway, lined with frost rimed dumpsters and stacks of abandoned pallets. The floor of the alley was rutted with snowmobile tracks and Nick could see a few vehicles of varying sizes parked towards the end. He limped toward them, hauling Hopps along, huffing and puffing as he went.

He could hear traffic, Tundra Town's man thoroughfare wound right in front of Koslov's palace, if he could make it there then he could lose himself in the crowds.

Even as he thought that he looked down to the unconscious rabbit in his arms and shook his head. Outside of an epidemic of spontaneous sudden onset blindness there was no way at all that people wouldn't start screaming for the ZPD at the mere sight of him. And even if they all were blind they'd probably still sense his fear.

He'd have to run.

A door slammed open ahead of him and Nick froze, ice flooding his veins. He hadn't even noticed the door, set in between dumpsters, designed for smaller mammals. An Arctic fox was coming out of it, gathering a coat around herself. She stared at Nick, eyes widening, the door swinging slowly shut behind her. She glanced back at it but made no move to flee, she seemed to realize that that avenue of escape was already sealed.

"You're him," she said faintly, eyes flickering down to Hopps, "and that's…" Nick tried to speak but no words came. He glanced behind him, then stared desperately back at the fox. Her fur had gone spiky with fear, she shook her head slowly.

"Is she _dead?"_ She asked after an uncomfortable moment had passed, her paws falling away from her coat. She was holding a pair of keys, perhaps they went to one of the snowmobiles parked in the alleyway. Nick hardly registered her words at first, then shook his head vehemently.

"I need your keys." He said and the fox tossed them over without hesitation, edging past slowly, with the utmost caution. Nick ignored her and struggled up the alley, leaving her to run the rest of the way to safety. A moment later Koslov's enforcers reached the ground floor. Nick heard the front door of the Winter Palace slam open.

He stared down at the keys and then over to the row of snowmobiles. Two of them were clearly designed for bears, another four for mammals smaller than Nick. That left a single jet black snowmobile parked midway down the row. He slung Hopps across it, then clambered on, jamming the key into the ignition.

The engine chugged, protesting the cold and Nick's rough treatment, but roared to life nonetheless. A bear slid around to the mouth of the alleyway, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Nick.

"He's here! In the alley!" Nick ducked low and stared at the throttle in his paw. He'd never driven a snowmobile before, had never even thought about it, and now that he was aboard on the controls seemed intimidating and complex.

The bear started forward, reaching into his coat for something, Nick pushed the throttle forward and the snowmobile jerked into motion, glancing off the alley wall with a crunch before ricocheting away, bouncing off another machine in the process. Nick yelped, eyes wide with terror, Hopps bouncing against his lap, the bear racing to intercept him.

He gunned the throttle, the engine shrieked and Nick sped from the mouth of the alley, mere inches ahead of the charging bear, who shouted after them as he skidded to a halt, words indecipherable but unmistakable in their rage.

Then Nick was out in the middle of a blur of traffic, cutting ahead of a ferret on a red snowmobile, nearly side swiping a truck with bulky snow tires. Horns blared and he heard the grind of tires against ice as the truck tried to brake. The driver, a yak in an ushanka, gripped the wheel tightly, mouth open in a panicked shout, then his truck hit the back of the car ahead of him with a crunch and both vehicle's airbags deployed.

Nick slipped around the accident, fish tailing for a terrible moment before darting across a lane of opposing traffic and into an alleyway. For a hopeful moment he thought that he was free, then the ice behind him was lit by red and blue lights.

"Stop right there!" A magnified voice echoed up the alleyway. Nick gunned the engine and the snowmobile leapt forward, the front skids leaving the ice for a moment before crashing back down, rattling Nick to the bone. A ZPD interceptor, treaded like a tank, was growling after him, just barely small enough to fit in the alleyway. Dumpsters and trash cans were shoved aside in a chorus of squealing metal, then the interceptor was out and right behind Nick.

Nick swerved to the side, running up onto the icy sidewalk, the treads of his snowmobile grinding against concrete, leaving a bouquet of pale sparks behind him. Pedestrians scattered, leaping out of the way. A pair of rabbits in matching pastel winter coats jumped back against the front of a bakery, staring in horror at Hopps' intent figure as Nick zipped past. Traffic had stalled, snowmobiles and cars alike scooting into other lanes, clearing a path for the ZPD interceptor. Nick could practically feel the heat of its engine on the back of his neck.

His heart was racing, the wind bringing tears to his eyes. How had things gone so wrong? He had known that Koslov likely wouldn't be pleased to see him, and for good reason…yet…he really hadn't expected the bear to try and put him into the ice machine.

Even thinking about that ominous little chamber brought fresh chills over him. Even Hopps had known exactly what it was, such was the ice machine's reputation. It was strange, how part of him felt surprised by Koslov's attempt to kill him, and how another insisted that it had probably been inevitable. Especially considering what the bear's thoughts on foxes had been revealed to be.

"This is your final warning fox," the magnified voice growled from the interceptor, "stop now or else we'll put you down." Nick hunched over the snowmobile's controls and swerved to avoid a newspaper stand. A moment later the stand exploded into a whirl of flying paper and magazines. The interceptor had clipped it, swerving to try and knock Nick off of his vehicle.

But why would they do that? Nick thought, panicked. Why would they try and do something so overtly violent when he still had Hopps on the snowmobile with him? But even as those thoughts swam through the electric sea of panic in his mind, a darker, clearer answer presented itself. He glanced down at Hopps, at how she was draped, unmoving, over the front of his seat. The ZPD, Nick realized, thought that Hopps was dead. And they were coming for revenge.

Up ahead a small sea of pastel shaded umbrellas bloomed into view, a sidewalk cafe, blocking Nick's path. The interceptor backed off of the sidewalk and swerved to avoid hitting a parked car.

Mammals stared at the approaching snowmobile, a few starting to stand up, expressions caught between uncertainty and growing realization and fear. Then Nick ducked under the velvet rope cordoning the cafe off, and smashed a metal chair aside with a bang and a crunch of breaking plastic. The front of the snowmobile was beyond ruined now, the headlights and front grill shattered entirely. The interceptor veered away, forcing a car off of the road, before arcing back towards Nick as he cleared the stunned cafe, heart in his throat and vehicle smoking, but otherwise intact and unharmed.

An officer was leaning out of the front passenger window, Nick realized, a stun-gun in his hooves. He was close enough that Nick could see his eyes behind the pair of reflective sunglasses he wore, and the cold grimace of hatred he wore on his face. He said something, the roar of the interceptor's engines robbing whatever it was of any sort of coherence, then Nick hit the brakes and the interceptor roared ahead of him as he skidded and spun, the stun-gun discharging harmlessly into a wall.

For an awful moment Nick thought that he had lost control entirely. He huddled over the controls, pressing Hopps into the seat so that she wouldn't fly off, and shut his eyes. Then he came to a halt with a crash and a bang that nearly threw him off of the snowmobile.

They'd come to a stop against the front wall of a bar, the rear of the snowmobile having taken the brunt of the damage. He pressed the throttle but the engine merely chugged and died, smoke rising gently from the ruined front end of the vehicle.

"No…no…" Nick muttered, twisting the key in the ignition. The snowmobile sputtered and he heard the engine growl for a moment, then it went dead again. A ram had appeared in the door of the bar, something bulky held in one hoof. He grimaced as he raised it and suddenly Nick could see that it was a stun-gun, a civilian model. This one had a little drawing of a snarling fox on the side, to demonstrate exactly what it was designed to be used against. He twisted the key again but the engine still refused to start. Hopps twitched slightly in her drug induced sleep, the ram took a step closer, eyes wide and face locked into something akin to a rictus of both fear and anticipation.

"You… _vermin."_ The ram hissed, and Nick ducked down as the stun-gun fired with a white flash of electricity. The prongs embedded in the Plexiglass windshield, stopping dead, the plastic around them browning and sizzling. Nick turned the key again and heard more sirens coming, the interceptor approaching once more, accompanied by other vehicles. The ram stepped closer but Nick bared his teeth and the mammal stopped, the look on his face turning entirely to fear.

The engine sputtered to life and Nick forced the battered snowmobile forward, not liking at all how many of the needles in their gauges were beginning to flutter and dip. Siren lights flowered into sight, reflecting from the icicles and snow, turning the world red and blue. There were officers on snowmobiles now, and further behind them Nick caught sight of a polar bear in a suit keeping pace. Koslov's goons were still about, keeping tabs on the whole chase.

He took a corner, nearly colliding with another snowmobile. The ox driving the thing swerved, putting himself directly in front of the ZPD. The interceptor swerved, shaving a few hairs from the hapless ox as it rushed past, before skidding onto the sidewalk and slamming into the front of a department store, shattering the plate-glass windows and scattering the shoppers inside.

The streets narrowed, traffic thinned, Nick could see he was passing homes now, interspaced with more personalized businesses than the big ones on the main drag. The net from a net-gun cracked against the back of his snowmobile and Nick forced the ailing machine to move faster. He could see the officers gaining, their faces grim and hate filled.

"Murderer!" A goat shouted, his voice shrill with fury. Nick ducked a stun-gun shot and swerved away from the ZPD. They were herding him towards the more thinly populated part of Tundra Town, he realized with a hint of alarm. So that they would have more room to maneuver. Nick forced himself to think.

He couldn't keep going like this. The ZPD was too close, too persistent. He needed to do something to negate their superiority in speed and mobility. Just like in the park.

He forced his fingers from the throttle and braked, hard but not enough to spin him out of control again. The treads screeched against ice and concrete, then he was turning, scraping down a narrow alleyway, the legs of his jumpsuit snagging against bumps of ice and other protrusions.

The goat tried to move to follow Nick but was moving too fast, his snowmobile glanced off of the edge of the alleyway and spun away, leaving one of its front skis behind.

He was somewhere residential now, moving alongside a hill that funneled down toward the main road once more. Beyond that was the border between Tundra Town and the Rainforest District. Nick could see more red and blue lights glowing down there, the ZPD coming to set up checkpoints and end the chase once and for all.

There were still ZPD vehicles behind him, growling up the slope, fish tailing on the ice. Even with snow tires the four wheeled ZPD interceptors were having a tough time keeping up with Nick's snowmobile.

Nick glanced down at Hopps, wishing desperately that she was awake. If she was then this whole thing would have been at least somewhat bearable. The ZPD would have been more cautious, he would have been allowed more chances to escape. But instead she was still draped silently over the front of his seat, ears limp and eyes blank.

Even as he thought that a flash of red and blue in the corner of his eye made him veer to the left, just barely avoiding the probing stun baton of a ZPD officer on a snowmobile. He stared over, eyes wide, then the officer was moving over again, trapping Nick between the guardrail and his stun baton.

"Die." The officer snarled, and plunged in, stabbing his baton at Nick. Nick ducked away, the baton just barely tickling his whiskers, then their snowmobiles met and with a hideous squeal of interlocking treads, ground to a halt. The officer was flung away, a surprised look crossing his face before he went tumbling down the street. A moment later Nick's snowmobile met the guard rail with a shower of sparks and he left the machine with a yell, Hopps flying after him, still serenely drowsy even as they spun through the air, over the guard rail, towards a hard and unforgiving ground.

Nick snatched Hopps to him and shut his eyes tightly, tail tucked firmly between his legs. Then he hit the ground and the world dissolved into a shower of stars.

...

For a beautiful moment the air was full of ice crystals, the sun shining through them, turning the sky into a kaleidoscope. Then he hit the ground again and the colors turned once more to stars. They were bouncing down the slope, tumbling head over tail, the sky and earth blurring into a sickening continuum of nonsensical input.

Then suddenly they were over nothing but thin air, falling and falling, Nick's heart in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prepare to meet the ground once more.

But instead of cement or ice or snow, Nick felt himself crash down into a yielding mass of _something._ Hopps bounced away and then suddenly, blessedly, they were still. Nick let himself lay still for a long moment, the world spinning about him, new aches and pains flaring from every corner of his body.

He was lying in a mess of cardboard boxes, Hopps curled next to him, still locked within herself by Koslov's tranquilizer. For a moment he was unsure of what had happened. Then he felt the world bump and thud beneath him and registered the growl of an engine.

They, he realized with a jolt, had fallen into the open bed of a garbage truck. Burrowing into the boxes and bags, dragging Hopps with him, Nick allowed the daylight to become nothing more than a few slivers of white, then shut his eyes and watched it become nothing at all.


	11. Chapter 11

Some time later, might have been an hour, might've been a year, the truck came to a shuddering halt with a hiss of pneumatic brakes. This woke Nick from an uneasy, exhausted sleep. For a moment he was bewildered, staring wildly around him at the forest of cardboard that he had somehow become entangled in. Then everything came snapping back. The jailbreak, his separation from Finnick, the frantic chases, Hopps…

She was still drugged, flopped out next to him. He snapped his fingers in front of her face. She didn't so much as twitch a muscle. A door creaked open and Nick heard the truck driver exiting the vehicle.

"Hell of a morning," he groused, "ZPD's thicker than fleas on a fox." He sounded older and Nick could hear the crunch of hooves on gravel. Definitely a prey mammal down there. Not good…

"And in Tundra Town to boot," came a younger voice, "usually they don't bother." The driver moved around to the side of his vehicle. Nick tensed. Was the driver going to dump the trash out of the back of the truck? If so, he'd definitely be seen.

"I hate that pit," the driver growled contemptuously, "too cold, too many predators…and they're the only borough in Zootopia that doesn't _sort their recyclables from their trash."_ That last part seemed to be the only thing he was genuinely miffed about, the other issues were mere annoyances.

"It's almost one," the younger voice said, "we could go for lunch and take care of this when we come back." _Yes,_ Nick pleaded silently, _do that. Please._ The driver grumbled.

"Fine. But I'm running the fork-lift when we get back." Nick breathed a quiet sigh of relief and listened until the sound of hooves had faded entirely away. Slowly, cautiously, he maneuvered his way to the top of the trash and took a careful look around.

They were in the Rainforest District, the sun almost completely blotted out by a lush canopy above. Peering over the side of the truck Nick could see a logo. TAPIR & SON WASTE MANAGEMENT.

The company site he'd found himself in was big, surrounded by a chainlink fence topped with razor wire. The fence and wire had long since begun to rust, but Nick suspected that that only added to the security.

Scattered behind an airstream trailer that seemed to serve as an office were several large piles of various materials, all recyclables. Tapir and Son seemed to purchase garbage from the city, strip out useful things from the waste and then resell them later. Smart.

Struggling onto the edge of the truck's bed, body yowling in protest, Nick looked down to the ground, quite a distance below him. He couldn't see any other way down other than jumping, and that would be tricky with Hopps in tow.

"Just remember the basics," Nick said to himself, "tuck and roll when you hit the ground, stiffen up and you'll break your legs." He'd jumped from high places before, but never while carrying someone else.

"One…two…" Before he could convince himself not to, Nick shoved off from the truck and for a weightless moment was suspended in midair. Then he hit the ground, tucked and rolled, coming to a sprawling halt in the gravel, shaken but unhurt. Hopps looked more ruffled than ever, but didn't seem to have come out of the fall with anything more than a few scrapes. Nick took a deep breath, winced as even that simple motion jarred bruises on his ribs, and began to drag Hopps towards the trailer.

It was unlocked, mercifully, and air conditioned as well. Toeing the door shut behind him, Nick sank to the floor and lay back, staring up at the dun colored ceiling, breathing hard. He was more exhausted than he'd ever been in his life, absolutely drained. And more than that he felt hopeless and despondent as well.

Koslov, his last (no…not friend, Nick reminded himself, Koslov had never been anything more than an opportunistic criminal) associate, had tried to kill him. The ZPD thought that he had murdered Hopps. Honey and Finnick were God knew where…

Even Hopps was tranquilized. He was utterly, absolutely alone.

There was a radio up on a shelf in the corner of the trailer and Nick traipsed towards it, turning it on, desperate for _something_ to break the oppressive silence. He listened to a commercial for fur care products, then came Gazelle. Nick changed the station, he didn't want upbeat or inspiring right now.

"…know that this fox is still out there, somewhere, on the loose. Remember this name, Nicholas Wilde, the name of the fox that is believed to have killed Lieutenant Judy Hopps of the ZPD and injured half a dozen other officers in a chaotic chase that has taken him halfway across Zootopia. The other escapee, so far unnamed, is described as a dusty gold fennec wearing an orange prison jumpsuit. Any information leading to an arrest of one or both of these dangerous predators will be met with an award funded personally by Mayor Peter Holt. Once again, the number to call if you believe that you have information that could lead to the capture of these dangerous fugitives is-" Nick changed the station once more, fur standing up on the back of his neck. They weren't even calling him a suspect anymore. Just…a criminal. A fugitive. A predator.

"…and we once more offer our prayers to the family of Lieutenant Judy Hopps, slain and dragged through the streets by this predator _thug_ , this murderous psychopath Nicholas Wilde." Nick sat back, heart racing. Somehow this scared him even worse than being pursued by the ZPD.

"Amen Glenn," an older voice on the radio agreed, staticky and pleased, "I think you hit the nail on the head with this one. And I know this aint gonna sound politically correct or anything, but I think we ought to start considering the mandatory issuance of fox repellent. Now I'm not prejudiced or nothing, I know foxes and most of 'em are just fine, but it's just a fact that they're the one species in Zootopia that commit most of the crimes. If we had something to keep 'em down then I think it would make this city a safer place. You know what I mean?" Nick turned the radio off, shivering. He had heard all of this before, but somehow it had achieved a sort of distance when people spoke about predators or even foxes as a bloc. When their words reached down and found him in particular, the prejudices cut anew. He tugged at the handcuff, feeling panic bubbling up within him.

He had to get out of this thing. Standing, rummaging through the desk, he found a paperclip and straightened it out, sitting back down and probing the lock with it. Yet…with each probe he found the advance of his makeshift lock pick blocked, baffled by some chunk of debris lodged firmly within. He jabbed and stabbed frantically until finally the paperclip groaned and bent out of shape. Shivering, Nick straightened out the other end and found Hopps' cuff, fiddling with its lock.

But once again the same thing had happened. The locks were gummed up, just like Hopps had said. Further probing only succeeded in jamming the debris in deeper. Nick threw the ruined paperclip across the trailer in disgust then rummaged through the desk once more, dragging Hopps up onto the rolling chair that stood before it so that he could…

There was a paper cutter sitting on the desk, one of the big industrial ones designed to cut through corrugated cardboard. For a moment Nick allowed himself to imagine that the steel blade, wicked sharp, would somehow be able to cut through the hardened steel of the cuffs, then shook his head in bitter self directed reproach.

But even as he dismissed that possibility, another came to mind, like some dead thing floating up to the surface of a swamp. He clambered onto the desk, pulling Hopps up after him, and looked out the window. The company site was still empty, the tapirs out at lunch. But they wouldn't be gone forever, and he would need to have left by the time they returned.

But he wouldn't be able to go too far if he was still handcuffed to Hopps. He was exhausted, bruised and battered. The day had chewed him up and spit him out. He stared at the paper cutter once more, an ugly, acidy possibility bubbling into his mind.

The cuffs couldn't be cut…but they didn't necessarily need to be. His gaze moved to Hopps' wrist.

She was unconscious, a wheedling little voice in the back of his mind insisted, she wouldn't feel a thing. Nick swallowed, his mouth dry, head cottony and thoughts rambling and unclear. Though them shone that horrible little voice.

You need to run, it said, and you wont be able to do that if you have Hopps with you. You cant drag her, and she'll fight you again when she wakes up. Nick put an uncertain paw on the handle of the paper cutter. It had been designed for use by mammals much larger than him, the blade looked like that of a guillotine.

But even as he registered the sensation of cool wood under his fingers he drew back, like he'd just touched a hot stove. He shook his head, feeling low and sick and disgusting for even contemplating such an act.

He could hear the voices on the radio spiraling in his ears, insisting that he had killed Hopps, insisting that all predators be blamed for what they thought that he had done. Was he really going to load their ugly words with truth?

Sitting down, breath coming fast and ragged, Nick began to shiver, then buried his face in his paws.

"No…" He murmured to himself, and began to cry. He was done. Drained. Utterly spent. This was it. He could go no further. Outside he heard the fence rattle as something bumped up against it, but couldn't summon the strength or will to move. Instead he just sat, head down, Hopps next to him, awaiting his fate.

Someone was coming, the wheedling voice told him. He suggested kindly that the voice shut up. It did, swallowed by a sea of fatigue and utter demoralization.

Nick shut his eyes, listening to the approach of what he could only assume was the tapirs. He shut his eyes and firmly hoped that the anchors would feel stupid when they discovered that Hopps was alive and well.

The mammal outside paused in its approach and made a strange metallic crinkling noise. Nick's eyes shot open. He could only associate one thing with that noise. But…surely…

"Honey?" He asked, and the crinkling abruptly stopped.

"Nick?!" Came Honey's reply, simultaneously cautious, overjoyed and utterly shocked. A moment later the front door of the trailer burst open and in skidded Honey, collar still wrapped in tin foil, fur smeared with mud and leaves. His paws flew up to his pudgy cheeks as he saw Nick, a half dozen rolls of tin foil clattering to the floor.

"My goodness, Nick, you look awful! Are you alright, are you…" Honey trailed off as he caught sight of Hopps, his eyes widened, "she isn't…dead, is she?" Nick shook his head tiredly.

"Koslov tranquilized her…" He smiled humorlessly at the shocked expression on the cheetah's face, "long story. What are you doing here Honey?" Honey scooped up one of the rolls of tin foil and held it out, as though that would explain everything.

"Hiding from the ZPD," Honey said dramatically, "but I need more foil to mask my thoughts, my vitals…and I don't dare go to the store. That's what they'd be expecting."

"I meant in the Rainforest District Honey," Nick said, "you live by the Docks…" Honey nodded, gathering up the rest of his fallen tin foil.

"Exactly," Honey said, "the ZPD has definitely raided by apartment by now. And that whole borough is no longer safe. So I came here, to hide in my bunker!" Nick blinked.

"Bunker?" Honey nodded, collar rustling merrily.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't have a bunker?" Honey asked, mildly astonished, then offered Nick one chubby paw. Nick took it and made his way painfully down from the desk. Honey watched this with evident concern.

"Have you seen Finnick?" Nick asked before the cheetah could start trying to play nurse and examine his injuries. Honey nodded.

"He's in the bunker," the cheetah said happily and Nick felt like a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. Just then Hopps grabbed his paw and he nearly shrieked, fur standing straight up.

The bunny glared blearily up at him, blinking slowly, tried to sit up but instead toppled over into Nick's lap. Nick moved Hopps away and looked to Honey, who was fiddling with the foil covering his collar.

"Can we…uh…break the cuffs before she fully wakes up?" Honey asked pleadingly but Nick shook his head.

"I tried, the locks are jammed." Honey tapped his foot, then sighed, apparently having reached a decision.

"Can she be trusted?" He asked, and Nick started to say 'no' before reconsidering. Hopps was naive and set in her ways, sure, but she also seemed to genuinely care that the rule of law was being upheld. It was complicated…

"I don't know." He said at last and Honey frowned before grabbing both Hopps and Nick up. Hopps struggled weakly in his grasp, then fell back asleep. They crossed the materials yard before reaching the side of the fence, where a large hole had been sloppily dug under it. Honey had apparently wormed his way under, letting no obstacle stand between him and his tin foil.

Setting Nick and Hopps down, the cheetah glanced fearfully back at the gate but there was no sign of activity. The tapirs were still on their lunch break. Nick made his way under, then watched as Honey flailed his way to the other side. Standing up, out of breath and dirtier than ever, the cheetah pointed determinedly into the jungle.

"This way." He said, and marched off, Nick and Hopps in tow.


	12. Chapter 12

Honey's bunker turned out to be an old wartime Quonset hut buried in the roots of a massive old tree, its entrance obscured with vines. Honey looked around him as they approached, scanning the jungle with undisguised suspicion.

"I don't think they're onto me just yet," he said in a dramatic whisper, "now go go go." He hurried Nick in through the dented metal door and Nick very nearly tumbled down a brief flight of stairs before regaining a perilous sort of balance, Hopps held precariously in his arms.

The bunker was lit by candles and a single electric lantern, the crank powered kind. Its light was flickering, the crank abandoned momentarily by a very surprised looking fennec. Finnick, Nick noted with a surreal twinge of amusement, was wearing a tinfoil hat.

"Nick…?" Finnick asked, eyes widening as he stood slowly up, leaving the lantern to go dark behind him. Nick smiled wearily.

"Long time no see Finn…" He said, and let himself sink to the floor, limbs trembling with exertion. Finnick approached, almost tentatively, eyes locked on Hopps, who was stirring weakly, occupying a blurry line between sleep and consciousness.

"So she's…" Nick smiled humorlessly.

"You didn't actually think I'd killed her and dragged her corpse across Tundra Town, right?" Finnick shook his head, looking perturbed.

"No, course not…that would've meant that ZNN was actually right about something…" He trailed off momentarily, "but Nick, she's a ZPD officer, is it really a good idea to be bringing her in here?" Honey shut the door to the bunker and barred it with a satisfyingly heavy clunk.

"No choice," he said sadly, "we had to move quick." Nick set Hopps gently aside and looked his friend over. Finnick had lost his jail jumpsuit since Nick had last seen him, and was now wearing an ill fitting sweater that hung over him like a dress.

"How'd you guys find each other?" Nick asked. Honey tapped a little plastic survival radio in apparent answer.

"I can get police frequencies on this bad boy," he said proudly, "all I had to do was listen to the chase and I got a pretty good idea of where Finnick was heading after the ZPD lost you. And I was right!" Finnick went back to winding the lantern.

"And where was he?" Nick asked. Finnick glowered at Honey.

"Not another word kitty." He warned, but Honey ignored him.

"On the doorstep of his grandmother's apartment, I intercepted him and whisked him away here, where he's much safer. Even if I don't have any of those delicious butterscotch cookies that she makes…" Finnick slumped his head, face burning beneath his fur. Nick smiled. He'd only ever met Finnick's grandmother once and (Finnick was very close mouthed about his family, preferring to maintain a stern, aggressive persona) had a pet theory that Finnick had been raised by her. And just like Honey had said, she made very good butterscotch cookies.

"And what about you?" Finnick asked, giving Honey a defeated but still malevolent glare before glancing over to Nick, "how'd you get out of Tundra Town, where'd Honey find you?" Nick remembered the cold look of dislike in Koslov's eyes and shivered.

"Fell into a garbage truck," Nick said, "after being tossed from a snowmobile…it was kinda wild. I crawled out and was trying to unlock the cuffs when along comes Honey, outta nowhere." Honey beamed, a leaf falling from his fur. He was arraying the rolls of tin foil on a shelf. Now that Nick looked around the bunker he could see that it was lined with shelves, and quite amply stocked with canned and preserved foods of all kinds. There were even some military issue MREs here and there, labels faded with age. It had been a long time since Zootopia had ever fielded any sort of active military, Nick found himself wondering where Honey had dug those up.

"I," Honey said, "was looking for tin foil," he wagged a roll of it at Finnick in mock reproach, "and you said nothing good would ever come of it…" Finnick stewed, Nick smiled.

"Speaking of which, looks like Honey's converted you." Finnick scowled, laying his ears back, rustling the tinfoil cap perched atop his head.

"His condition for letting me into the bunker." The fennec growled. Honey made a sympathetic cooing noise.

"I wasn't being serious," he said, "but you put the hat on so fast I…and you look so _cute_ in it." Finnick let his forehead fall against the lantern with an audibly frustrated thump. Nick chuckled before looking down at the cuffs linking him and Hopps.

It felt good to catch up with his friends, now that they were somewhat safe…but he couldn't relax with the cuff still locked around his wrist. He glanced over to Honey.

"Do you have anything that could break these?" He asked, lifting his paw, bringing Hopps' up with it. The bunny said something faint and indeterminable, eyes fluttering open.

 _"…_ _not breaking 'em,"_ she said, voice clearer now, drug induced slur almost gone, _"cant…illegal."_ Honey crouched down, watching Hopps struggle back towards consciousness with a simultaneously fascinated and ecstatic look on his face.

"Oh, she looks so _adorable_ when she's sleepy!" He cried and Hopps blinked blearily over at him, making a vague swiping motion with her free paw.

 _"_ _You cant call a bunny that…"_ She said sternly and then slumped back to the floor, still waking up. But one thing was for certain, the tranquilizer was wearing off, and fast.

"Honey, get me a file or a hammer or…" Nick trailed off, Honey had produced a pair of bolt cutters, "those will work." Honey fitted the blades around one of the links of the chain connecting the cuffs and tried to cut it. But though the blade scored the metal and crimped the link, it could not cut all the way through. Nick watched Honey's struggles in dismay, holding the chain taut. After a few moments he realized that Hopps was watching this too, looking slightly amused.

 _"_ _It's a special alloy,"_ she said, _"and tampering with it is illegal."_ She said this last part gravely. Finnick scoffed, leaving the lantern behind once more.

"Yeah? Well, guess what bunny, we aren't exactly in a position to care." He glared at Hopps. Hopps glared right back.

 _"_ _You head butted Officer Hart in the stomach,"_ she said, _"that wasn't called for."_ Finnick stared, then threw his paws up in disbelief and wheeled around, stalking angrily away.

"Bunnies!" He said to nobody in particular. Nick watched Hopps slowly return to lucidity, her voice clearing, her movements slowly becoming smoother and more focused. Honey managed to make the jagged scrape in the cuffs a little deeper but otherwise didn't make any more progress. He set the bolt cutters aside with a palpable air of sadness.

"We'll get you out of those things," he assured Nick, "one way or another…"

Hopps managed to sit up and winced, putting a paw to her forehead.

"Ugh…" She said, then looked around, "where are we?" There was silence for a long moment.

"Somewhere safe," Nick said at last, he wasn't sure how much Hopps had seen of the route they'd taken to the bunker, but given how groggy she still was it didn't seem likely she knew too much…

"How'd we get away from Koslov?" She asked. Nick recounted the story and Hopps listened quietly before staring miserably down at the ground.

"They think I'm dead…" She said and tried to stand up before toppling unsteadily into Nick. He eased her back to the ground, "we have to clear this up. Right now." Nick, Finnick and Honey shook their heads in unison.

"You think we're going back out there?" Finnick asked, "when ZNN's all but calling for the ZPD to kill us on sight?" Hopps winced.

"What other option is there?" She asked pointedly, "I'm cuffed to your friend for better or worse, we cant sit in this…bunker?" Honey nodded, "bunker forever."

"Oh no, _we_ can. You on the other hand…" Hopps blinked. Nick gave his friend a questioning look.

"What are you saying Finn?" Nick asked.

"When we get these cuffs broken then we ought to blindfold the bunny and lead her someplace far away. That way the world will know that she's alive and that the hacks at ZNN were talking out their tails, and we'll be rid of her." Hopps folded her arms, shaking her head slowly.

"I'm not letting justice go undone," she said, "I've got my perp," she lifted her cuffed arm, bringing Nick's with it, "and I'm taking him back in." The look she gave Finnick made it clear that he wasn't exempt from this justice either. Honey glanced back and forth uneasily at the argument unfolding.

"You're not gonna arrest me?" He asked, slightly confused.

"Who are you?" She asked. Honey blinked.

"You mean…? You don't know me? Honey, the wizard that kept Wild Times' lights on?" Hopps shook her head slowly.

"We…oh goodness, that's a major lapse. We had no idea that there was a third mammal running that…park." Nick chuckled. Honey looked disappointed.

"Oh," he said faintly, "that's not very fun…" Nick shook his head slightly at Hopps.

"You aren't arresting anyone," he said firmly, "because nobody here has done anything wrong. Well…seriously wrong."

"Yes," Honey agreed, "there are valid moral arguments to be made in favor of everything that we've done." Hopps stood shakily up, nearly fell over, but managed to keep her balance. Nick remained seated on the ground.

"You unlocked innumerable Tame Collars without city approval, stole city electricity, committed fraud, tax evasion, assaulted officers, _kidnapped_ officers, colluded with organized crime, resisted arrest, damaged police property…the list goes on!" Her voice was shrill and outraged. Nick folded his arms, not so incidentally dragging Hopps back down to the ground.

"You forgot murder," he said lightly, "unless you've finally come around…" Hopps scowled.

"Koslov himself said that it wasn't you," she said, avoiding Nick's eyes, "so…I guess, yeah, it wasn't you that shot up Wild Times. But that doesn't mean that all of your other transgressions are waived. All of you are still looking at life in prison, easily."

"Progress," Nick said, "finally. But now you must admit that I was framed. Right?" Hopps sighed, unenthused, somewhat embarrassed to be having this conversation.

"You definitely were," Honey agreed, "but…by who?" That concerned Nick. When even Honey, master conspiracy theorist that he was, couldn't think up a probable culprit (Nick had been expecting something about the world banking cartels or maybe even aliens) then the plot was truly opaque.

"My first thought was Koslov," Finnick said, "but that couldn't be the case…he's sunk too much money and time into Wild Times to blow it now."

"Plus," Nick added, "he was there with Morris. He'd never put his cub in danger like that."

"Maybe," Honey interjected, "whoever it was was trying to turn Koslov and us against each other." That seemed plausible, but…

"Who could that be though? Koslov doesn't have any rivals…at least none that we know about." Finnick was right, Koslov had so thoroughly monopolized organized crime in Zootopia that anyone who dared oppose him had to do so from the deepest of shadows.

"Oh," Honey said excitedly, "it's the media! A ZNN operative framed Nick so that they could create the news! Fear sells!" Hopps shook her head.

"ZNN is publicly funded," she protested, "there's no way they'd do something so awful." Nick, Finnick and Honey all gave her a mutual look of incredulous disbelief.

"You've never listened to ZNN before, have you." Finnick said flatly. It wasn't even a question. Hopps bristled.

"I listen to the traffic reports," she said defensively, "I don't really follow the news…I get enough of that at work." Finnick gave Nick a look. Honey turned on the radio and got a rush of police chatter before switching frequencies.

"…very exciting development here Alex, these leaked ZPD documents seem to indicate that Wilde was directly responsible for removing the collars of nearly one hundred predators, in some sort of underground club designed to promote predator supremacy. Mayor Holt has decried these leaks, but honestly Alex, the more information that's available to the public the better. That way we're better equipped to catch this fugitive before he kills again."

"Promote predator supremacy…?" Nick echoed, voice airy with disbelief. Even with everything that he'd heard over the course of the day that took the cake for bizarre. Finnick was simmering.

"You haven't heard the half of it," the fennec scowled, "someone leaked our arrest records and the case files for the Wild Times bust. And that includes the speculation that you were responsible for the other shootings." Other shootings? Nick had heard some of that in the periphery of his arrest, but it hadn't come up again when Hopps had been interrogating him. She had been more interesting in finding out about Koslov's involvement in Wild Times.

"So…they think I've killed other mammals, other than Lieutenant fluffy bunny here?" Hopps elbowed him but Nick ignored her. Finnick shrugged.

"I guess…?" Hopps shook her head.

"The gun you were found with is connected to three other shootings. They injured a half dozen people but nobody was killed, fortunately. There was some speculation that whoever was behind it was targeting prey animals…" She stopped, then glanced to the radio, where Alex the anchor was still carrying on. "But…this cant be representative of ZNN, they're just scared. It'll all calm down once they realize I'm actually alive."

"And we're in prison." Finnick finished darkly. "Or dead." Hopps winced.

"You've committed crimes," she said, "of course that scares people." Nick cocked his head.

"That's not it," he said, "there are plenty of prey criminals who lead the police on chases, but have any of them gotten this much attention?" Hopps' eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly.

"You cant just pull the predator card," she said firmly, "it's not that." Nick felt a hot flash of anger ignite within him.

"Really?" He asked, "do you _really_ believe that Hopps?" Hopps flinched slightly away as he spoke and Nick realized that he'd been curling his lip ever so slightly, revealing his teeth.

"Can you not…" Hopps began but Nick cut her off.

"Like that, right there. Do you know how it feels to have prey flinch away from you whenever you smile or try to talk to them, like you're some sort of _threat?"_ Hopps was silent, eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way but…" Finnick cut her off once more.

"He aint alone bunny," his voice was rough with anger, "and it's more than some feeling. It's the truth." Hopps' gaze flickered from Nick to Finnick to Honey. The bunny, Nick realized, was lost for words.

"I know what it feels like," she said at last, Finnick scoffed but Hopps kept speaking, "to be underestimated, ignored by the world. I was the first rabbit to make Lieutenant in ZPD history…and so far I'm the only one. It's not easy to be so much smaller than your co-workers, so easy to ignore." She looked incredibly vulnerable for a moment, then the confident, bluff exterior snapped shut once more. Finnick didn't look convinced.

"We're about the same size," he said, "tell me to my face that if I worked just as hard as you then I could make it into the ZPD as anything more than a traffic cop or some desk jockey."

"Well, you couldn't," Hopps said, "but not because you're a predator," she added quickly, "because of the collar. It wouldn't be convenient for a cop to be getting shocked every time he got angry or scared on the job." She chuckled nervously, glancing around at the three predators.

"You realize that I'm being discriminated against because of what I was born as, right?" Finnick asked, voice crackly with anger, his paws clenched into fists, "because of this thing," he tugged at the collar, "because I so happen to have been born with sharp teeth instead of flat."

"Calm down," Honey said, voice filled with concern, "you're gonna get buzzed…" Finnick shrugged off his concerns.

"A whole facet of life that maybe I might have explored in some other life, taken forever because of something that I cant even control. How is that fair? _How?!"_ A moment later the collar beeped, Finnick yelped and fell back into Honey's arms, tears of pain and sorrowful rage shining in his eyes. Hopps was stunned, nose twitching, visibly unsure of what to say.

"It's not perfect," Hopps said uncertainly, "but…"

"It's here to keep us all safe," Nick finished with a sigh, "I know. I've heard it all before. To keep our savage natures suppressed, or so your people say."

"It has to be here for a reason," Hopps said, "otherwise, what possible purpose could it serve?" Nick straightened his whiskers.

"I ran Wild Times for nearly a year," he said, alongside Finnick and Honey. And in that time I used that city key you confiscated to unlock hundreds and hundreds of collars. I don't know how many, I never kept track, but three or four thousand wouldn't be too much of an exaggeration. Do you know how many went savage while their collars were off?" Hopps turned her gaze to the ground. Nick formed a circle with two fingers.

"Zero," he continued, "and I know you could say, 'well Nick, it's the best amusement park in Zootopia, how could they possibly get angry?' But it happens, people lose at games, break up with girlfriends, have their cubs or kits start throwing temper tantrums…" He smiled sadly, the old memories coming back in a bittersweet flood, "you have to deal with some real jerks sometimes. But none of them ever went savage. Not a single one."

"That doesn't prove anything," Hopps said stiffly, alarmed by Nick's admission, "how…how do I even know you're telling the truth?" She sounded slightly panicked, deeply held beliefs that she had never questioned were being assaulted from all sides, and she had no idea how to defend them.

"Why would I lie?" Nick asked. Hopps opened her mouth but then shut it again. "Because I'm a fox? Was that what you were gonna say?" Hopps shook her head, glaring.

"No! Is that all you think of me as? Some bigot? And besides, you predators aren't exactly perfect in that regard either." Nick and Finnick shared an uncomfortable look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked after a moment.

"What Koslov said," Hopps said, "about foxes. He said you were untrustworthy, that you weren't a real predator." Finnick bristled.

"He said that?!" Nick nodded. "Next time I see him," Finnick vowed gravely, "I'm gonna do something awful to him, just you watch." Nick had nothing to say to that. He himself hoped never to see Koslov again.

"That's terrible…" Honey said, "Nick, I'm sorry." Nick however felt low and guilty, replaying something he'd said the previous day.

"Maybe if you predators weren't fighting each other then you wouldn't be looked down on so much." Hopps said, and instantly tempers flared back up.

"Why do you think we fight each other?" Nick asked hotly, hooking a finger under his collar and yanking on it, "because of these. Because of this whole messed up system!" Hopps didn't seem to be following.

"But why?" She asked, "you're all predators aren't you?" Finnick gave Nick a look.

"Don't go there." He warned, but Nick was unhappy enough to ignore him.

"There are some species of mammal that are technically predators," Finnick sighed and pinched the bridge of his muzzle, shaking his head slightly at Nick's words, "but they're not…really. Like otters." Hopps blinked.

"Like Mayor Holt?" She asked warily. Nick nodded.

"Yes. Like Mayor Holt. Nobody flinches when he smiles, nobody scoots their children away when he steps close…because he doesn't have big scary teeth or claws, he's small, people don't get scared when they think of otters…" He trailed off and shook his head.

"I said it before," Finnick growled, " and I'll say it now. Don't say stuff like that. It's not helpful." Nick sighed.

"I know it's a messed up opinion, I know it's not right, but it's just…unfair. How come Holt gets to be nonthreatening and…and the first predator Mayor of Zootopia? Why not any of us?" He slumped his shoulders, demoralized and dispirited. The silence lasted for a long time.

"So," Honey said, artificially cheerful, "who wants some lunch?"

Nobody seemed to be especially hungry.


	13. Chapter 13

Hopps was very quiet for the next hour or so, while the four of them tried to enjoy a spectacularly uncomfortable lunch. Even Honey's spirits seemed to have been broken down by the argument, the only sounds seemed to come from the ZNN broadcasts on the radio, each one worse than the last. Finally Finnick turned it off, and then went back to winding the lantern, staring unhappily at the wall as he did so.

"So…what's the plan exactly?" The fennec asked after another small eternity had ticked by. Nick looked up.

"Plan?" He asked. Finnick nodded.

"Like the bunny said, we cant sit here forever…at least not with her in tow." Nick picked up the bolt cutters once more and fitted them around the damaged link in the chain, but once more could not break through the hardened steel. Hopps watched this latest attempt but made no effort to stop him.

"You're not gonna break those," she said at last, "not without an acetylene torch or something like that." Nick glanced hopefully at Honey but the cheetah shook his head.

"I've never owned much in the way of welding supplies." He said apologetically.

"I guess we're kinda stuck then," he said, tossing the bolt cutters frustratedly aside, "the locks are jammed, the chain is too tough to cut…" Hopps avoided his gaze, focusing on an invisible but very interesting something in the dirt in front of her.

"And you aren't arresting anyone." Finnick added, folding his arms, leaving the lantern alone for the moment. Hopps regarded the three predators, then sighed.

"I didn't realize that there were people out there who…who distrusted the collar so much." She said quietly, an air of uncertainty in her words, "I knew there were complaints and stuff like that, but…nothing like this." Finnick raised an eyebrow.

"Were you born under a rock?" He growled, Nick held up a paw, motioning for the fennec to be quiet. Finnick reluctantly obeyed.

"Bunny Burrows," Hopps said with a faint smile, "almost the same thing. Before I joined the ZPD I never knew anyone who wasn't prey…who wasn't a bunny really. I mean, there was the mailman, he was a goat, but I don't think that counts. And when I made Lieutenant I thought I'd seen the city, I'd met plenty of people, I'd even voted to make a predator mayor of the city…I guess I thought I knew what was going on." She sniffed and Nick was shocked to see that Hopps was fighting back tears. He opened his mouth but was unsure of what to say.

"I…" He trailed off, feeling immensely sorry for the bunny all of the sudden. "I guess I didn't know what was going on either. What I said earlier, about there being species that aren't real predators…that was really dumb of me. Really stupid. I should have known better after Koslov said that same thing about me…" Finnick's ears perked up and for the first time since the argument he actually smiled.

"I still don't know what to think about the collar," Hopps said, "but…I don't think that you shot anyone Nick. You're still a criminal, still a fugitive, but…" She trailed off and shook her head.

"What?" He asked. Hopps wiped a sleeve across her face, wiping her eyes.

"Would it be prejudiced if I said you weren't too bad for a fox?" Nick couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes," he said, "but I'll make an exception for you." Hopps smiled and managed to laugh. The atmosphere in the bunker relaxed significantly.

"So, what're we gonna do?" Finnick asked again, "what's the plan?" Honey picked up the bolt cutters and went to work on Nick's cuff again but only succeeded in chipping the blades. He set the damaged cutter aside with a sigh.

"Are you double jointed?" The cheetah asked Hopps hopefully, "I saw a movie once where the main character was double jointed and he could squeeze out of handcuffs…" Hopps shook her head.

"No…" Honey deflated and sighed, walking unhappily away, trying to think of some other way to remove the cuffs. Nick examined the crimped and mangled chain. Though it had been scored and cut by the bolt cutter it still looked much too strong to bash apart.

"You aren't trying too hard to stop us from breaking these cuffs." Nick said after a moment had passed. Hopps shrugged.

"I don't have to, the cuffs are stopping you just fine by themselves." And wasn't that true…

"Are you still planning on taking me in?" He asked. Hopps hesitated, but then nodded.

"If I get the chance to." Nick had nothing to say to that. At least it was better than an absolute 'yes'. Finnick grumbled.

"You wont take me alive." He said fiercely, and turned away. Hopps was silent.

"I could just take you," she said after a moment had passed, "in exchange for leaving your friends alone. I'm sure I could get the District Attorney and his people to just forget about them, especially if you were to tell us about Koslov…now that you don't have any incentive not to." Nick blinked. Was Hopps really trying to broker deals even now?

"Are you serious?" He asked, bewildered. Hopps nodded gravely.

"What other option do you have? This bunker isn't a permanent option, not when you have the entirety of the ZPD and most likely all of the Tundra Town mob hunting for you. You'd be safest in ZPD custody…I can clear up all of the stuff about my 'death' and get rid of the shooting charges…and a lot more if you help us with Koslov. And your friends walk free." Nick frowned, trying hard not to grit his teeth.

"I'm not going back there," he said firmly, "like my friend just said, you wont take me alive." Hopps laid her ears back, then looked away, disappointed. Nick stewed, feeling stupid. He'd felt like he had actually connected with Hopps for a moment there…then it was deals and calculating, impersonal police stuff once more…

He felt oddly betrayed.

"I'm still a fan of the idea where we break the cuffs and go our separate ways." He said, voice taut with anger. Hopps said nothing.

"I mean, it's what, nearly six now?" Nick asked rhetorically, feeling increasingly upset at Hopps as he spoke, "it'll be getting dark soon. How about we go out there and break the cuffs? I'm sure there's _something_ that can cut through these chains and rid me of you." The words were barely out of his mouth when the world flashed white and he shouted, toppling over, clutching at his neck. The collar had shocked him. Hopps stared, face filled with mingled fear and concern.

"Nick," Honey said, rushing to his side, Finnick not far behind, "goodness…" Nick stared down at the ground and let out a ragged breath. Hopps was still staring. He hated how shocked she looked, how there was even sympathy in her eyes. He wanted his anger at her to be pure, not tainted with an odd guilt that he couldn't get rid of.

"Nick…" She said. Nick was once again surprised to hear his first name coming out of Hopps' mouth. She sounded bizarrely conflicted, perhaps regretting bringing up the deal.

"What?" He asked, a little more harshly than he'd meant to. Hopps sighed.

"If we just…go our separate ways then I'm going to have to come after all of you once I get back in touch with the ZPD." Finnick and Honey exchanged a glance before nodding.

"Bring it on." The fennec said. Honey seemed slightly more conflicted but nodded along anyway.

"Alright." Nick said, and got up.

...

A half hour later, after many warnings from Honey and an assurance from Finnick that they'd find a new place to hide as soon as possible, Nick and Hopps set out into the deepening twilight. The sunset barely reached through the trees, giving everything an eerie deep blue cast.

"Why'd you get so angry when I proposed that deal to you?" Hopps asked after a while, as they walked deeper into the jungle. Nick didn't want to show it but he had become lost almost instantly. His original plan had been to head back to Tapir & Son's, where he hoped he could find a welding torch or something heavy duty to break the cuffs, but instead he was just wandering. He had a feeling that Hopps knew this.

"Judy?" He asked in return, "have you ever distrusted the ZPD?" Hopps shook her head almost instantly.

"No…course not." Nick sighed.

"There's your answer. You cant really comprehend why I don't trust a thing a ZPD does because you've never looked down the wrong end of their stun-guns and batons. Did you know that the first time I was arrested I was nine years old?" Hopps stared.

"No…your record doesn't mention that."

"It was the day after I got my collar on," Nick said, "and I was still convinced that it was a symbol of adulthood, you know, like Koslov said. My father, he was a tailer, he wanted to open up his own shop, and all he needed was a loan. So off we went to a meeting with an old elephant who rejected us out of hand. I got upset by this because I had an inkling that he might have done it because we were predators, collared foxes in an upscale bank. I got shocked for the very first time, fell forward…and was arrested for assault. Fun story, right?" Hopps looked horrified.

"They arrested a…a kit for assault?" She asked, voice heavy with disbelieving shock.

"Ever since that day, every time I see one of those uniforms, one of those badges…all I can think of is the way everyone stared as my father walked us out of the station. Like some sort of mistake had been made and a pair of criminals were walking free…" Hopps put a paw on Nick's arm. He nearly flinched away from her touch but ultimately didn't. It felt oddly comforting.

"If it's worth anything," Hopps said, "I'm sorry that that happened to you." There was silence for a long moment. Then Hopps spoke again. "Did your father ever get that loan?" Nick shook his head curtly.

"No." Hopps had nothing to say to that.

They walked for another few minutes, then Nick heard the murmur of a river, someplace ahead of him. He stopped. It was definite, he was going the wrong way. But before he could ask Hopps if she had a compass or something (probably not, since she'd lost her utility belt at the Winter Palace), he heard a strange whoosh up above him. Like a kite taking off in a heavy gale.

He had turned halfway around to see what it was when something hit him hard in the shoulder, sending him spinning away, yanking Hopps after him. The night had been obscured by a silhouette, billowy and unformed, bizarre looking. Nick tried to lunge up but was knocked back to the ground by his collar. He yelped and then the figure was…folding into itself. What?

Hopps lashed out but the figure was quicker and jumped back before kicking her to the ground. She gasped in pain, Nick scrabbled over her, snarling, baring his teeth at the figure. It hit him again and the world turned to stars.

"Nick!" He heard Hopps cry, then came a sudden blinding light, like a star had exploded to life mere feet away. He curled away, shielding his eyes, blinking dazzling spots from his vision. Hopps grunted, then cried out in pain, Nick tried to reach out but only earned another blow that crashed down over his back. He collapsed to the ground, moldering leaves and dirt pressed against his face.

Then…suddenly, the chain of the cuffs was slack. Nick rolled away, coming up in a defensive position, night vision still dazzled by the flare of…whatever the hell that had been. But he could see enough to make out a dull red glow at the end of his cuff chain…where…

He suddenly remembered Hopps' words about an acetylene torch being needed to cut through the cuffs. But why had the silhouette separated them? A moment later those thoughts were knocked from his mind, the rush of blackness unfolding before him. For a terrible moment the entire world was darkness, a few whirling spots of flash blindness punctuating it, then the figure pulled both feet up, seemingly hovering in midair as it did so, and stomped Nick in the chest. He flew backward and came to a crashing halt in a stand of plants, stunned, chest on fire.

"Go." The figure said coldly, voice coming out as a hiss. The sheer emotionlessness was chilling. And with that the silhouette flowed away, back to where Hopps was. Nick felt himself shaking, terror pulsing through him in great thudding bursts, like the concussion of a really big firework blast.

For a moment all he could think about was running, sprinting through the jungle with no real destination, just until his legs gave out. But…

Hopps cried out again, then the silhouette gasped, it sounded like Hopps had hit him somewhere painful. Nick laid his ears back, balling his fists, and launched himself forward, picking up a stick as he did so.

The silhouette turned as Nick lunged, blocking Nick's blow with a fold of blackness. The stick exploded into rotten chunks, then Hopps kicked the figure's legs out from under him and he fell to the jungle floor with a crash. For the first time Nick got a good look at his assailant.

A leathery, pitch black creature, swathed in nonsensical folds of leathery skin, stared with beady eyes set over a flared snout. The figure opened his mouth in a snarl, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth, then Nick kicked him hard in the chin and snatched Hopps' arm, dragging her after him. The figure shrieked something indeterminable, then Nick could hear that same whooshing that had preceded the attack.

He threw himself to the ground, the figure soaring (soaring!) overhead in a rush of wind, disturbingly prehensile feet scraping along Nick's lower back, tracing red hot lines of agony. Nick scrambled up, then was falling sideways, his collar shooting bolts of agony through him. Somehow he retained his balance and kept limping, dragging Hopps along. The rabbit was staring to her left, face a rictus of horror.

"Nick! It's coming!" She shouted, then the silhouette billowed open n front of them and Nick realized that whatever they were facing had _wings_. Big ones. These were the strange leathery folds that Nick had seen earlier, why the figure had seemed so utterly bizarre and alien in the brief glimpses Nick had gotten of it earlier.

He dodged to the right and suddenly they were along the banks of the river he'd heard earlier, a rushing torrent of brown water that wound through the Rainforest District before ending up as a tributary of the main river somewhere near the border of the Docks.

The figure shrieked once more, a high, piercing noise, and Nick stared back, realizing with a stab of dread that he had nowhere to go but backward. Into the river.

"You still remember how to swim?" He asked Hopps, voice shaky with fright. She glanced back at the river, then suddenly the figure was gliding towards them, feet aimed at Hopps.

Nick yanked her back, caught a glancing blow on the shoulder from the figure, and then was submerged, spinning through dark waters.

When he came back up Hopps was gripping onto his sleeve, coughing and gasping as they went through the choppy water. The current was much faster than the canal had been and the water much rougher. This was a wild river, fed by snowmelt from Tundra Town.

"Doesn't this…" Hopps caught a wave to the face, which obliterated the rest of her sentence. Nick found himself clutching onto her paw like a life preserver as they spun downstream but was too frightened to feel at all self conscious about it.

"What?" He asked, trying and failing to keep his teeth from chattering. The water was frigid, barely removed from the snow and ice that it had once been.

"Waterfall!" Hopps shouted, and Nick stared ahead, to where the horizon dissolved into a rush of white foam. They were closing in fast, no time to make the shore. Nick clutched Hopps close and then was sucked over the edge.

For an instant they were falling, perfectly in synch with the water, air whistling past their ears, then the impact slammed them apart in a kaleidoscope of shocking pain.

Nick surfaced, body numb and yet somehow tingly, like he'd had a hundred thousand acupuncture needles stuck into him, coughing and sputtering, trying to force his abused lungs to inflate.

"Hopps!" He wheezed, voice barely carrying over the roar of the waterfall, "Judy!" Then he spotted a flash of blue, a spot of white. Marshaling the last of his strength, he swam after it. "I didn't fight that monster just to let you die now…" He gasped and seized onto the back of her uniform. Hopps stirred weakly as he turned her face up in the water, paddling towards a gravel bank.

They made a painful, staggering landfall, Hopps coughing and hacking up river water, Nick dizzy and shivering. He hugged his knees, unable to stop himself from shaking. Hopps stared at him, blinking slowly.

"You saved my life…" She said, and then threw her arms around him in an embrace. Nick jolted back, yelping.

"Ugh…" He groaned, and Hopps gasped, staring at her paw, which had come away red with blood.

"Nick…you're bleeding." She said, and lifted the shreds of his prison jumpsuit away from his back, wincing at what she saw underneath. "That…thing, it cut your back, we need to bandage that up…" Nick nodded slowly and got painfully to his feet. Now that the adrenaline from the fight and their trip over the waterfall was fading he felt hurt and weak, the world spinning disconcertingly around him. His back stung, sending lances of pain deep within him, from hip to shoulder.

"I…" He staggered and fell to his knee, Hopps putting his arm over her shoulder.

"Come on," she said, "we've got to get up the bank, find some help." But even as she said that she looked conflicted. Nick could tell that she wanted to contact the ZPD. He tried to tell her not to but the world turned an alarming shade of gray before he could and he nearly toppled over.

"Just a little further Nick." Hopps urged him, and somehow, though he felt like he'd faint or tumble over every step of the way, Hopps guided him up the steep riverbank and to a mostly empty parking lot next to some abandoned building site or other. Nick slumped down, gasping for breath, Hopps crouching next to him. She was scanning for something but not finding it. Finally she stamped her foot in frustration.

"Where's a pay-phone when you need one?" She wondered aloud, exasperated, then winced. "I'm gonna have to do something illegal," she said, "don't think any less of me…" Nick smiled wearily.

"Am I corrupting you already?" He asked, then Hopps was running over to an older pick up truck, rust spotted and sporting a quartet of bald tires. She looked both ways, spotted nobody nearby, and then hopped up and put an elbow through the front driver's side window. Nick watched, amazed.

"Are you stealing a car?" He laughed, then winced as the effort set his back afire. Hopps unlocked the door and swung it open, running back over to Nick.

"Come on, gotta walk a little more…" She urged and Nick managed the arduous trek over to the truck, clambering into the front passenger seat with a sigh. Hopps climbed into the driver's seat and proceeded to hot-wire the truck with astonishing proficiency.

"You sure you've never done this before?" Nick asked with a tired smile. Hopps shook her head fiercely.

"It was part of training," she said, "I swear." The truck had clearly not been maintained well, but at least it ran. They headed out of the parking lot and onto a dark and largely empty road. Nick buckled his seatbelt, noticing that Hopps had done the same. He felt faint and woozy, and wasn't entirely sure how much longer he'd be able to stay awake before blood loss and exhaustion carried him off.

"Where are we going?" He asked. Hopps glanced over and once more looked conflicted.

"Somewhere safe." She said at last, and Nick grayed out.

...

He awoke in fits and starts, consciousness fogged with pain and fatigue. Once they were going through traffic, Hopps telling him to keep his head low. Then they were cruising along a cul-de-sac, green lawns, massive homes, many decorations in the shapes of bunnies. Was this…?

"Bunny Burrow?" He asked blearily, then passed out once more.

Hopps was gone when he came to next, but he could see her through the window, stealthily approaching one of the homes. She knocked. The door opened, and the resulting shriek made Nick jump. Though he couldn't hear the specifics of what Hopps was saying, the visuals were clear enough. Hopps being enveloped in a storm of hugs by a dozen rabbits of all sizes. A few even seemed to be weeping.

So this was the Hopps family. But why had she brought him here? Nick tried to sit up but his back had been glued to the car seat by dried blood. He tore away, cried out and sank into a faint.

Then he was being carried, very furtively, by a veritable sea of rabbits. A few seemed confused. There was much chatter but Nick couldn't bring himself to understand it.

As they crossed the threshold Nick tried to reach out for Hopps but the world seemed to be moving away from him, shrinking to a pale dot that soon became nothing at all.


	14. Chapter 14

Nick awoke with a start to the sound of muffled voices. For a groundless moment he was entirely lost, swimming in darkness like a ship that had lost its moorings. Then context swirled into his surroundings.

He was in a room, a few slivers of light coming in under the door, lying draped across two beds that been pushed together, blankets draped over him. He started to sit up but had to stop, pain rippling through his back. Wincing, he forced himself the rest of the way up and realized that he was shirtless…wearing nothing but a pair of baggy black pants, bandages swathed around his midriff.

He tried to recall the events that had brought him here. Hopps and him had been attacked, they had fallen over a waterfall trying to escape. Then…Hopps had taken him to Bunny Burrow. To her home.

For what purpose though? Nick got up slowly, vision fogging with static for a moment before clearing back up. He felt slightly better now that he had his feet under him, but the abuse that his body had taken during his flight from Koslov, the ZPD and…whatever had attacked them in the jungle had definitely taken its toll.

There was a door in front of him but he hesitated as he reached for the handle.

"It's locked." He said, but tried it regardless. And…somehow, for some reason, the knob turned. Light rushed in. The voices, vaguely argumentative, became clearer.

He was looking into a narrow hallway, his ears almost brushing the ceiling, the walls lined with photos. A great big mural style panoramic shot took up a good three feet of wall space. It had been framed, and atop the gilt surrounding it was the legend: The Extended Hopps Clan. He tried looking for Hopps in it but the sea of bunnies was so dauntingly large that he gave up after a few moments.

"…we cant keep doing this Judy, we've got to tell _someone."_ Nick froze. He was a great deal closer to the voices than he had thought. Pressing his ear up against the wall Nick listened.

"Nobody can know he's here," Hopps was speaking now, voice urgent, "I know it sounds crazy but…but I think that I owe it to him." Nick blinked, stunned. Had Hopps really said that?

"Jude…" Pleaded a different voice, this one female, "if anyone finds out that we've got a _fox_ hidden away in the spare bedroom then…" She trailed off, leaving the doubtlessly dire consequences to be imagined.

"Listen to your mother Judy," the first voice said, and Nick supposed that this was Hopps' father, "it's not safe to be…colluding with predators right now, let alone a wanted fugitive. Just take him in, I'm sure they'll understand…" Nick felt the fur on the back of his neck rise up, a jolt of fear passing through him. He edged away from the corner, heart starting to beat just a little bit faster.

"He's not just a fox," Judy said hotly, "he saved my life." There was silence for a few moments.

"Judy…" Hopps' mother sighed sorrowfully.

"Bonnie," said Hopps' father, "maybe she's got…uh, what do they call it when hostages start feeling sorry for their captors?" There was an unmistakable and oddly hilarious tinge of hope in his voice.

"I was never a hostage," Hopps protested, "just…along for the ride." Nick smiled to himself, he certainly couldn't dispute that. And before he could stop himself, he rounded the corner of the hallway and stepped into a kitchen.

A trio of bunnies whirled to watch his approach. Hopps blinked, surprised but simultaneously relieved to see him up and about. The other two rabbits were older, gray spots popping up behind their ears. Judy's father stiffened visibly at the sight of him, her mother (Bonnie, she had been called) glancing uncertainly at Hopps.

"Nick," Hopps said with a taut grin, "you're awake." Nick nodded. His head felt fuzzy and once more he was anxious, wondering quietly if Hopps' parents were going to alert the ZPD when his back was turned. Hopps nudged her father, who forced a smile.

"I'm…I'm Stu, Judy's father," he said, extending a paw, "you must be Nick." Nick shook paws and tried to smile back, mindful not to show his teeth.

"Yes, nice to meet you sir. And you must be Judy's beautiful older sister…" He addressed Hopps' mother, she smiled uncertainly at the flattery.

"Her mother actually," she said tensely, glancing over to her husband, "I'm Bonnie. It's…nice to meet you Nick." They shook paws, Hopps glancing helplessly from Nick to her parents.

"Now that you're acquainted," she said with a forced smile, "how about we…uh…what time is it?" Stu checked his watch.

"Eleven," he said, "just a little past eleven…" Nick looked at Hopps, realizing that she wasn't in her police uniform anymore. Instead she was wearing a plaid sun shirt and jeans, oddly casual after the militarism of her uniform.

"Nick, are you hungry?" Hopps asked. Nick hesitated, then nodded slightly, embarrassed to have to have to fall upon Hopps' generosity.

"A little…" He said, smiling nervously, all too aware that Hopps' parents had scooted slightly away from him and were staring, warily, like he might attack at any moment.

"I'll make you something," Hopps said, and looked over to her parents, "mom, dad, do you want anything?"

"No thanks Jude…" Stu said with a smile that looked more like a wince, then they were heading off, glancing back over their shoulders at Nick as they left, not quite daring to turn their backs to him. Nick slumped his shoulders as soon as they were out of sight, a sense of hopelessness percolating deep in his gut.

"I'm…" Hopps trailed off and then put her paws flat on the surface of the dinner table, shaking her head slightly, "I'm sorry about that," she beckoned to Nick, "you should sit down." Nick scooted out a chair and sat down, knees hunched up in front of him. Everything in the Hopps home was just slightly smaller than he was used to, meant for rabbits who were a good foot shorter than Nick.

Even as Hopps looked into her fridge she paused and then smacked her forehead with one paw.

"Ugh, I forgot…predators don't eat plants." Nick smiled hesitantly.

"Actually, foxes are omnivores," Nick said in gentle correction, "we can eat fruit and…really anything." Hopps nodded, relieved, and dug into the fridge, coming out with a little basket topped with a paper towel.

"Blueberries," she said, "from our garden out back." Nick accepted and removed the towel, revealing a spread of plump azure globes. He couldn't help but smile.

"You know," he said, "my father used to take me for blueberry ice cream on weekends when I was little. This reminds me of that." He popped one onto his mouth and bit down, sighing with contentment.

"Good?" Hopps asked, taking a seat next to him. She was still wearing her half of the broken cuff, Nick saw, evidently she hadn't yet managed to unjam the lock.

"Perfect." Nick said, looking around the kitchen. It was large, the stove possessing six burners rather than the typical four. Nick supposed that that was necessary when cooking meals for such immense families.

"How long was I asleep?" He asked after a moment had passed. Hopps took a berry and popped it into her mouth.

"A full day," she said, "you were hurt pretty badly Nick, those cuts on your back are deep…" A flash of their bizarre assailant passed through Nick's mind and he couldn't stop himself from shuddering.

"What _was_ that?" He asked, "that attacked us?" Hopps shook her head slightly.

"It looked like a…a bat," she said, "but it couldn't have been. Bats are tiny, hardly any larger than mice or voles." Nick didn't voice any speculation of his own. It frightened him to think of that thing still out there, haunting Zootopia's nights, still hunting for him and Hopps.

"It cut the chain on our cuffs," Nick said, fingering the melted edge of his chain, "I cant figure out why it would do that…" Hopps was silent for a long moment.

"I need to show you something," she said, "you'll need to tiptoe." She got up from the table and Nick followed, taking the basket of berries with him. She padded upstairs, Nick close behind, panting slightly from the effort. Even this little climb was disconcertingly exhausting, Hopps hadn't been exaggerating concerning his wounds.

The second floor of the Hopps house seemed to be made up of bedrooms, all with personalized doors. Sasha, Joseph, Sam, Jennifer, Michael, Douglas, the list went on.

"How do you manage with so many siblings?" Nick asked, eyes widening as he tried to estimate how many children the Hopps family had. Hopps gave him a strange look.

"What do you mean?" She asked, voice kept low, "I've only got twelve brothers and sisters, that's hardly any."

"Bunnies…" Nick sighed under his breath, then they reached a plain door at the end of the hall.

"Here's my room," Hopps said, "come in." Nick obliged and Hopps turned on the lights, shutting the door behind them. Nick looked around. Hopps' room was a spartan affair, neatly made bed, tidy desk, rolling office chair, filing cabinet, bookcase with neatly filed books. The only extravagance she seemed to have allowed herself was a great big Gazelle poster above her bed, advertising the upcoming Animalia concert.

"It's not anything special or…uh, fancy." Hopps said, suddenly self conscious, but Nick was staring around in wonder. Hopps' room was nearly as large as his entire apartment, her ceiling was smooth and flawless, no pipes ran across it, he doubted that she'd ever been woken by the boiler kicking off in the middle of the night. She had books and a computer and…and…

"Wow." Nick said, and sat down on the foot of Hopps' bed, almost overwhelmed. He'd seen opulence before, in the places that Koslov frequented, but somehow it hadn't occurred to him that ordinary people could enjoy this level of casual comfort…without even trying.

"Are you okay?" Hopps asked. Nick nodded.

"Yes…just…why'd you bring me here Judy? Why not just arrest me? I wouldn't have been able to stop you." Hopps paused, almost surprised to hear the question. She sighed.

"I thought about it," she said, "but…back in the jungle, you carried me away when that weird bat thing had me knocked down, and then you dragged me out of the river. You didn't have to…you could have just run away. It's because of you that I'm even here, talking to my parents, instead of…" She shuddered, electing not to finish the sentence. Nick was silent for a long moment, watching Hopps.

"Back at the station," he said at last, "when you kept that officer from beating me, that was the first time that I'd ever been treated like an equal by a ZPD officer. There was something different about you, even if you weren't perfect." Hopps chewed the inside of her cheek, looking down at the floor.

"I was a real jerk to you Nick," she said, "and…and a lot of other predators too." She looked troubled, distracted by something.

"What's wrong?" Nick asked, feeling a little prickle of unease worm its way along the back of his neck.

"One of the collarless predators that ran away from Wild Times got killed this morning…while you were asleep." Nick felt his heart skip a beat, icy shock constricting his lungs. The edges of his vision seemed to have gone dark. _Killed?_ How? Was it someone that he had known? Had he looked them in the eyes and promised them the best time of their lives as he unknowingly signed their death warrant? He tried to say something but found that he was shivering too badly to speak. Instead he let out a jagged gasp and then clutched at the collar around his neck. A moment later it shocked him, sending him to the ground with a crash. Hopps rushed to his side, Nick could hear commotion out in the hallways now.

"Nick!" Hopps was saying, cradling his head, "you've gotta breathe…breathe…" He blinked back a scalding flood of tears…or tried to. They spilled down his face, the stress of the last few days running out of him in a miserable river.

"It was my fault…" He whimpered, then the door to Hopps' room burst open and Nick could see a small horde of younger rabbits staring quizzically in. A few of them cried out at the sight of Nick, others just stared.

"Did he try to eat you Judy?" One of the bunnies asked fearfully, pushing a pair of glasses up his nose.

"No," protested a younger rabbit, "the foxxy-woxxy _saved_ Judy, I heard so!"

"Did not." Frowned the first bunny.

"Did too!" Shot back the younger rabbit. Judy shook her head at the bickering rabbits.

"Go back to bed," she said, "Nick just had an accident…it's nothing." Nick wiped his tear roughly away, still shaking. Hopps' siblings slowly dispersed, Hopps herding them back to bed, leaving Nick momentarily alone.

He could feel panic, dark and sticky as tar, bubbling up within him, threatening to suck him down someplace where there was no air or light. Somebody was dead because of him. Dead. The word echoed hollowly in his head, splintering off into jagged shrapnel that seared at his synapses.

He curled up as far as he could, his back shrieking in protest. He hardly noticed. Hopps came back and shut the door quietly behind her, kneeling down next to Nick. She put a cool paw atop his head.

"It's not your fault Nick," she said, maneuvering his head onto her lap, stroking him gently, "none of this was your fault." Nick sniffed, feeling low and broken, like nothing at all would ever be right again. The world seemed tawdry and cheap now, some easily broken toy that wasn't worth the effort even winding up. What could it all be worth if stupid stupid him had caused somebody's death?

"I took off his collar," Nick said, rough foggy with tears, "I…" He shut his eyes, embarrassed and shattered and so many other things. He wished that he would turn transparent and just fade away into so much dust. To let Hopps and Finnick and Honey and everyone he had ever known just forget that such a mammal as Nicholas Wilde had ever existed.

Hopps was silent for a long time.

"What I wanted to show you," she said and Nick heard her take something metallic from her back pocket, "was this." He stared, his mouth dropped open. What he was looking at was a bizarrely shaped, tiny little silver key. A city key. And what was more… _his_ city key.

"How…?" He asked, blinking slowly. Hopps smiled sheepishly.

"I…uh, forgot to turn it into evidence before going home the night I interrogated you. I just put it on my desk over there and forgot. Then you decided to break out and…" Nick stared at the key, it was oddly hypnotic. Before he could say anything Hopps had taken it out of sight. He heard a little click and suddenly…

The collar was falling away, unfolding onto Hopps' lap, under his neck. He felt like Atlas, relieved of the weight of the earth, a bizarre sensation of emptiness tingling around his neck.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached up and touched the fur where the collar had lay. For a moment he was sure that it would still be there, that his fingers would touch nylon and wiring, but instead he felt his own fur. He stroked up and down, lifting himself off of Hopps' lap, exploring the open space where the collar _wasn't._

"Judy, you…" He stared from her to the collar, now lying harmlessly on the ground, green light holding steady, a bizarre kaleidoscope of feelings rushing through him. Part of him felt like laughing, another like weeping. In the end he did both, tears sliding down his face as he held onto his neck, sniffling, laughing, gasping for breath.

"You need to rest Nick," Hopps said and led him gently to her bed. He hesitated, looking at the sheets, the soft white pillows, decorated with images of prancing cartoon bunnies.

"I could just go back downstairs…" He began but Hopps shushed him and before he knew it he was tucked in next to the rabbit, Hopps reaching for her lamp. She looked over at him.

"Goodnight Nick." She said.

"Thank you Judy." She smiled lightly, and turned off the lamp. Nick let his head sink back onto his pillow and sank into oblivion.

It was the best sleep of his life.


	15. Chapter 15

When Nick awoke Hopps was still fast asleep, on her side, facing away from him. She was breathing softly, ears relaxed, paws lightly holding a curl of blanket under her chin. For a moment he was confused as to why Hopps and him were sharing a bed, then it all came back. Hopps calming him down, showing him the key…

His paws flew to his neck where the collar…wasn't, and for a second he was stunned all over again. Looking over Hopps he could see it lying spread open on the floor, harmless now, its horrible power entirely removed.

He sat fully up, sharp pains shooting from his back as he did so, and looked across Hopps' room once more. If he'd had to guess then he'd have said it was sometime in the late morning. There was a low grade buzz of activity from the lower floor and Nick supposed that that was Hopps' family bustling about.

His memories of the previous night felt strange and surreal, like they almost hadn't even happened. But, as he looked around further, taking in the abandoned basket of blueberries sitting on Hopps' desk, and the ominous sight of the collar on the floor, the more and more it sank in.

Hopps had defended him against her family, she had removed his collar. She had…

Nick ran a paw over his ears, trying to keep at bay a swell of panic as he remembered just what his episode the night before had been about. A patron of his park had been killed. He tried to fill his mind with Hopps' calm voice, tried to remember just what her paw had felt like when she stroked him as she removed his collar. But pulsing beneath that veneer of comfort was a wellspring of guilt and shame and regret, reminding him of what he had done with all the monotonous agony of a toothache.

He wondered who it had been, how they had died. In his head he imagined ZPD officers trapping the victim against a wall and stunning him again and again when he tried to run. Somehow even the fact that his collar was off made him feel even worse. He had played a role in…killing somebody, and had gotten his collar removed in return. How was that fair?

"Nick?" Hopps' voice made Nick jump, he stared to where Hopps had rolled over and was looking at him with unhidden concern.

"I'm fine." He said hurriedly, all too aware that his voice was shivering, his paws trembling, his fur spiky with unhappiness. Hopps sat up, kicking the blankets off of herself.

"No you're not," she said, voice firm, "what's going on?" Even as she asked this Nick could tell that she already knew, or at least had a very good idea. He hesitated for a long moment, then bowed his head, drawing his knees up to his chest, paws finding the sides of his neck once more.

"I don't deserve this," he said, _"any_ of this." Hopps shook her head firmly, rejecting Nick's words outright.

"The predator whose collar you removed," Hopps began, scooting closer to Nick, taking one of his paws in hers, "he wasn't killed because of you. You had nothing to do with it Nick, nothing at all." Nick sniffed back another hot surge of tears.

"If I'd just left his collar alone…" Hopps shook her head.

"He died stopping a mugging Nick," she said, voice gentle, squeezing Nick's paw, "the collar had nothing to do with it." Nick blinked. He looked up uncertainly, uncomprehending.

"What?"

"He tried to stop some street punk from stealing a lady's purse and got stabbed. That was it. You weren't involved." Nick wiped a paw roughly across his eyes, still shaking.

"Are you…sure?" He asked, hardly wanting to entertain Hopps' words. What if she was wrong? What then?

"I spent all of yesterday listening to the news when I wasn't checking up on you. I was sure that somehow ZNN would know that I was alive and…hiding you. But instead I heard that. I don't know why I told you, I'm sorry Nick." Nick took a deep, shuddering breath. He felt shaky and ill, but somehow…lighter. A client of his had been killed, but…

"It's fine," he said quietly, trying to calm his breathing down, "you took my collar off, nothing you could possibly tell me would cancel that out." Hopps looked relieved, she stepped out of bed and stretched. Just then Nick heard rapid footsteps ascending the stairs, several sets of them. Hopps heard them too, she took an uncertain step toward her door.

"Jude," puffed Stu from outside her door, sounding one step short of outright panic, "I just looked into the fox's room and he's _gone!"_ Hopps rushed for the door, opening her mouth to say something, but she was too late. It swung open and Hopps' father froze in the doorway, framed by a half dozen excited younger bunnies.

"Umm…" Hopps managed to say. Nick gave the doorway an awkward and hopefully apologetic smile.

"Jude," Stu said, eyes wide, "why's he in your bed? And…why's his collar off?" His voice had gone airy with shock. Nick felt acutely embarrassed, his ears drooping. Hopps stepped in front of him, herding her father away.

"It's _really_ not what it looks like…" He heard her quietly assuring him, then she shut the door and thumped her forehead against it, equally exasperated and embarrassed.

"Sweet cheese and crackers…" She muttered, and turned back towards Nick, who was still staring, fur standing straight up.

"Well, um," Nick chuckled nervously, "did he think that we were…?" Hopps sat down at her desk, looking like she'd just been hit with a stun-gun.

"It's like a bad exploitation flick…" She said, and Nick couldn't help but chuckle.

"Do you watch those?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Hopps colored through her fur.

"No! I mean…well…maybe when I was younger…" She waved a paw at him, trying to cut the conversation off. Nick laughed, grinning.

"It's okay, I'm sure there's plenty of suburban bunnies who try to understand predators by watching those." Hopps looked almost impossibly embarrassed, but she was trying hard not to laugh.

"But those days are over," she declared, trying to play off her embarrassment, "I've got my very own fox!" Nick smiled, stepping stiffly from Hopps' bed, raising an eyebrow.

 _"_ _Your_ fox?" He asked in mock protest, "what if I've got a vixen back in the Docks?" Hopps averted her eyes, chuckling nervously, but said nothing to that. The silence grew. Nick wondered if he'd said something wrong.

"I think we ought to get some breakfast." Hopps said at last, and Nick stepped around the fallen form of the collar, almost afraid to touch it. He was half convinced that if he so much as toed the evil thing then it would latch back onto him.

"Do you have a shirt I could borrow?" He asked, and Hopps hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

"I don't think anything in my closet would fit," she said, "unless you're into the whole 'exposed midriff' look." Nick decided to pass on that, and in the end went down to the kitchen wrapped in a sheet, like Lazarus returned from the grave.

Stu and Bonnie, who were very quietly but agitatedly discussing something, stiffened and fell silent as Nick and Hopps appeared. A half dozen of Hopps' siblings also paused in their activities to glance over, keenly interested in Nick.

 _"_ _See,"_ Nick heard Stu whisper conspiratorially to his wife, "he doesn't have his collar." Bonnie looked aggrieved, frightened by the sight of Nick's bare neck. She stared questioningly at Hopps.

"I guess you can all see that I took off Nick's collar." Hopps said, a tad nervously. For a moment there was silence.

"Are you out of your mind Jude?" Stu spoke first, but he sounded more stunned than angry, like he couldn't believe that his daughter had done such a thing. And, to be fair, Nick would have been in a similar state of shock had he been told that the Hopps he met in the interrogation room in Central Station would be removing his collar less than three days later.

"Judy," Bonnie said, voice quavering, eyes flickering warily over to Nick, "your recent behavior has been extremely concerning. I know you've been through a lot, but you've crossed a line, bringing this…this…"

"Fox?" Nick finished, trying to hide the hurt that the Hopps' words were causing with a pleasant smile. He was ever careful to keep his teeth hidden away. Bonnie gave him an uncertain look.

"He isn't just a fox," Hopps said fiercely, "how many times do I have to remind you? Mom, Dad, Nick _saved my life."_ The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Nick felt spectacularly uncomfortable, fixed front and center in the gazes of virtually everyone in the room.

"Why you got a sheet around you?" Asked one of the young bunnies curiously, fascinated by the fox standing before him.

"Umm…" Nick started to say, but was interrupted by another bunny.

"He doesn't have a shirt, his was all covered in blood," the young rabbit puffed her chest out for the next part, "I saw it." Up rose a third bunny.

"Did not!" Bonnie swept the horde of bunnies away, in the bustling but effortless way that only a mother could.

"How about we find something else to do," Nick could hear her saying, much to the dismay of her brood.

"But I wanna talk to the foxxy!" Protested the first bunny, then a door clicked shut and the specifics of the dispute drifted from hearing. Stu folded his paws, keeping his eyes firmly on Nick.

"Your mother's right Jude," he said, no longer looking quite so unhappy. Now he just looked old and afraid, "this is too far. I took him into my home because…because he was hurt and you were alive. But you cant just keep him here, you cant do things like this, it's putting everyone in danger."

"You're not collaborating," Hopps said, "if the ZPD found out then I'd get arrested, but nobody else would. You're uninvolved." Stu sighed.

"I'm talking about _him,"_ he pointed to Nick, "what if he goes savage?" Nick sat down on the bottom step of the stairs, keeping his gaze directed at the floor, chewing the inside of his cheek. Hopps was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment. Nick waited to see what she would say.

"I don't think he will." She said at last. Nick shut his eyes.

"Put his collar back on Jude." Stu said firmly. Nick looked up.

"Sir? Mr. Hopps?" Stu jumped, his gaze turned wary and uncertain.

"What?" He asked, a little sharply.

"I know that you feel scared," Nick said, "when you look at me all you see is a fox and a collar…or lack of one," he smiled wanly, Stu just stared, "when your daughter and I first met that was how we saw each other. All I saw was a uniform, all she saw was sharp teeth and claws. But…even though it took us getting cuffed together and having to fight and run and argue, we eventually saw past those initial impressions. I realized that she was more than just some cop out to arrest me…and she saw that I was more than a predator…more than a fox." Stu's nose twitched. He looked dumbfounded, and Nick reflected that this was probably more than the rabbit had ever heard a fox say at one time before. He glanced uncertainly over to his daughter. Hopps nodded solemnly.

"He's right dad."

"Jude…" Stu said, but sounded unsure. He took a step toward his daughter and enfolded her in an embrace, holding tightly onto her, "I…I just don't want to lose you again." Hopps returned the hug.

"You won't," she assured her father, Nick could see tears glimmering on the edges of the older rabbit's eyes, "I know what I'm doing." Stu sniffled, wiping his eyes.

"You told me that when you made Lieutenant…" He smiled shakily, then looked down to Nick, smile fading. He didn't look frightened anymore though, just…uncertain. Nick extended a paw.

"I promise you sir," he said, "I'd never hurt your daughter…or anyone." Stu reached out, a little hesitantly, and shook Nick's paw.

"So…Nick, was it?" Nick nodded, Stu fumbled for further words, "I…uh…I don't know many predators, so…I guess I might've said some stuff that was, uh, prejudiced." Nick shook his head.

"Everyone says dumb stuff," he said, "I would know…" He smiled wanly, Stu stepped back, the scene relaxing slightly.

"So," Stu said after a moment, "you… _don't_ go savage without the collar?" He sounded simultaneously serious but also ashamed of himself for asking. Nick nodded.

"I've never been savage before sir." Stu blinked.

"You don't have to call me that," he said, "uh, sir I mean." Nick smiled, feeling slightly relieved.

"Mr. Hopps?" He suggested. Stu considered but then shook his head.

"My name is Stu," he said at last, "you can call me Stu."

...

"That…went a lot better than I thought it would." Hopps said an hour later as they finished clearing up from breakfast, Nick washing, Hopps drying. They were alone in the kitchen, Stu and Bonnie having reluctantly left them alone once more. They still seemed jumpy and nervous around him, Nick could tell, but it was better than the thinly veiled hostility that he had seen before.

So far he hadn't told them about Wild Times. Somehow he didn't think that connecting himself to a place where predators roamed around without collars would do anything to calm the Hopps clan down.

"Your dad's a nice guy," Nick said, "I think my dad would have gotten along with him." He handed the last dish over to Hopps and then scratching an itch on the back of his neck. It still astonished him how freely he could do this without the collar in the way. Without fearing that if he yanked on it too hard then he'd get a shock.

"What…happened to your dad?" Hopps asked, then winced at her question, "sorry, you don't have to answer that…" Nick washed the soap from his paws and shut off the sink.

"It's fine. My dad…he had a heart murmur, and one day he got zapped for something and just fell over. I wasn't there when it happened, I was across town doing something stupid…I remember I showed up to the hospital with spray paint on my paws, and the doctor kept glancing down at them while she was telling me that…that I was too late." Nick was silent for a long moment, watching the last of the water swirl down the drain, carrying suds with it.

"I'm sorry Nick…" Hopps was watching him, mouth curving into a sympathetic frown. Nick forced himself to smile.

"It was a real kick in the teeth," he sighed to himself, "but it forced me to take a look at myself and realize that I couldn't be a little hoodlum forever. It motivated me to work towards something. That's what my dad was always telling me to do, but I was just so…upset all of the time, at the collar, the city, the whole system. I had to channel that…that unhappiness into something. Or else I was gonna blow up and end up in jail or a ditch someplace."

"So you started Wild Times." Hopps said. Nick nodded.

"Yeah. Finnick and I. He was the only other hoodlum buddy of mine from those days that isn't currently filling a jail cell as a profession. He came along 'cause he was looking for something to focus on, just like me. Along the way we met our cheetah friend Honey, and…well…you sorta crashed into the aftermath of that partnership." Hopps nodded, looking vaguely troubled.

"God. I ruined your life's work…" She looked genuinely upset, "I just thought it was some mob front for laundering money. I didn't realize…" Her paws dropped to her side, printing stripes of wetness across her hips. Nick blinked, a twinge squeezing something deep in his chest. Just a few days earlier he would have been overjoyed to see Hopps regretting doing something, but now it just made him feel bad. Seeing Hopps upset made him feel upset too. As odd as that was.

"Wild Times isn't gone," Nick assured her, "once all of this is over then I'm gonna start it up again…and go legit." Hopps blinked, staring.

"How's that gonna work?" She asked, surprised, "I don't think the City Business Bureau is just gonna let you start taking off collars willy-nilly." Nick smiled, undeterred.

"I just got my collar taken off by a rabbit Lieutenant, in her own home. If something like _that_ can happen, then anything's possible." It felt surprisingly good to be so optimistic, even if some dark corner of his mind was busily reminding him of just how impossible his plan was. Hopps smiled, relaxing.

"I hope you're right." A comfortable silence grew and enveloped them as they finished up their chores. For a half moment Nick hesitated, then turned to Hopps.

"So," he said, "I guess we're friends then." Hopps blinked, taken by surprise, then laughed.

"Are we?" She asked herself, then nodded firmly, "yes. Yes we are."


	16. Chapter 16

When they returned to Hopps' room Nick could see that the bunny was thinking, her nose twitching every so often as she mulled something intractable and difficult over in her mind.

"Anything tickling the old synapses?" Nick asked. Hopps glanced back and nodded.

"Lots of stuff, but let me get something to write with before I start…" To Nick's surprise Hopps eschewed her computer and instead picked up a notepad. It was, he realized, the very same one that she'd been recording his testimony in back at the police station. She even had the same carrot shaped pen.

"So, I'm gonna guess it has to do with our friend the bat-monster?" He asked, shifting uncomfortably. Even casually mentioning the beast sent shivers of pain through the wounds on his back.

"More than that," Hopps said, "this whole situation is just…bizarre." She sat down at her office chair and folded her legs, ears laid back in careful concentration. Nick nodded, pleased. So Hopps was going to do some detective work now. He was curious as to how that would work.

"I've never really been part of an investigation before," he said, "do I get an honorary title or anything?" Hopps giggled and then spun her chair around, retrieving something from her desk. As she fiddled with it Nick realized that the bunny was unfolding a pad of stickers, all of them gold and in the shape of tiny golden shields.

"How's Junior Detective Wilde?" She asked, pasting a little ZPD badge over the front of his bandages. Nick laughed.

"I'll take it," he said, "but, as for the investigation, lead on brave bunny." Hopps wrote something down onto her notepad, a title of some sort, and then turned her attention back to Nick.

"So, the bat thing that attacked us in the Rainforest District was the same person that attacked Wild Times?" She asked. Nick nodded, the cheer draining from the room. He felt uneasy even recalling the whole ugly scene.

"Yep." Hopps jotted something down.

"And this was to frame you," she said, "we know that much. But why?" Nick shrugged.

"Well. Uh, can we just call the bat-monster 'Barry' or something? Barry the bat-monster is a lot less creepy than just plain old bat-monster." Hopps raised an eyebrow.

"I know a Barry," she said in mild protest, "we did traffic duty together when I was first starting off in the ZPD." Nick ran over a few other suggestions but each time Hopps seemed to know some upstanding officer or another who shared that name.

"Dracula?" He asked at last, "I know it's stereotypical and kinda offensive, but…"

"Can't say I know anyone named Dracula," Hopps said with a wan smile, "lead on brave fox."

"What I was saying was, I think that Dracula was doing something more than just pinning the shootings on me. He could have just left the gun in a drawer in my office or something if he wanted to do that, but instead he went to the trouble of opening fire on a crowded park. He wanted to spark a panic." Hopps nodded evenly at this.

"I think you're right," she said, "since the Wild Times shooting doesn't match his m.o. at all. All of the other shootings he opened fire on prey animals. At Wild Times he went after predators…" For a long moment the only sound was the scratch of her pen on paper.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing Judy?" Nick asked. Hopps looked up from her notepad, chewing the inside of her cheek, troubled.

"I think so…" She said, "and I don't like it."

"Our friend Dracula," Nick began grimly, "he's been deliberately stirring up anti-predator sentiments." There was silence for a moment.

"But…but wasn't _he_ a predator?" Hopps asked uncomfortably, "I mean, you saw his _teeth…"_ But Nick shook his head.

"I didn't see a collar, there wasn't a little green light or anything. I mean, are bats predators?" Hopps paused and then shook her head uncertainly.

"I…I guess not?" She sounded unsure.

"He definitely would have gotten shocked at some point, but I never heard a collar go off." Hopps shuddered.

"He was _shrieking_ Nick, maybe that covered it up…" Nick shook his head fiercely.

"Why would a predator want to start a panic against his own kind? That would be insane…" Hopps sighed, not entirely convinced, and flipped the page on her notepad.

"What I cant figure out," she said, "is why he cut our cuffs." Nick fingered the melted edge of his chain, looking down at the smooth cut that the welding torch had made. Hopps was right, their assailant doing that was seriously bizarre…

"He said something to me," Nick said after a moment had passed, "when he had us both knocked down he leaned over me and said 'go.' Then he turned back toward you…" For a moment he considered what he'd said, then the meaning of their attacker's weird message clicked into place. He felt fantastically dumb for not seeing it before, but in the chaos and mess and…general oddness of the past two days, well,was it really all that surprising?

"Go?" Hopps asked, eyes widening, "he…said that?" Nick nodded.

"Hissed it more like, but that was definitely what he said." Hopps shivered, looking ill.

"We've had it wrong all this time," she said, voice crackly with astonishment, "he wasn't trying to kill _us._ Just…just me." Hopps' words hit Nick like a punch in the stomach. But she was right.

"He didn't want anyone to see you alive," Nick said, "that would have spoiled the narrative." Somehow the knowledge that the bat thing hadn't wanted to kill him (not at first, the cuts on his back reminded him) made him feel even worse. Dracula had kicked both him and Hopps down without even trying, it had only been thanks to sheer luck that they had left the Rainforest District alive.

"What I want to know is how he found us. How'd he know we were in the Rainforest District?" Hopps presented good questions. How _had_ Dracula known where to find them? ZNN and the ZPD both had lost them as soon as they tumbled into the Tapir's garbage truck.

"Maybe it was just bad luck." Nick said, but even as the words left his mouth he felt doubt chipping away at them. Dracula had been carrying an acetylene torch, he had _known_ both where he was going to find them, and what he was going to do upon getting them on the ground and at his mercy.

"He's not working alone," Hopps said at last, "this is way too complicated for a single mammal to pull off." Nick had suspected as much, but when he tried to think of who Dracula could be colluding with his mind hit a brick wall.

"The media?" Nick asked lightly, recalling what Honey had said about ZNN operatives back in the bunker. Hopps gave him a look.

"Nah. They'd have started reporting about us being in the Rainforest District if Dracula was working with them." That was a good point.

"I wonder where Finnick and Honey are now." Nick said. Hopps had no answer for that query.

"Somewhere safe," Hopps assured him, "there hasn't been any news about sightings so far…"

"One thing I must say," Nick sighed, "is that Dracula has done a bang-up job at scaring the hell out of the city. Everything he's done has been so…calculated. Shooting up Wild Times released a bunch of collarless predators into the city, framing me gave the media a convenient punching bag to blame the ills of the city on. And me escaping and 'murdering' you was the icing on the cake…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

"That's why I think he's not working alone," Hopps said, "he would need help planning all of this, unless he's some sort of reclusive genius with way too much time on his paws."

"If that's the case," Nick said vindictively, "I hope I broke his teeth, so he can spend some of that free time getting them fixed." Hopps turned another page in her notepad.

"I wonder how much of this he planned for, and how much was just knock-on effects." Nick shrugged.

"Well, I'm sure me escaping was a pretty big surprise. Same with you cuffing yourself to me and then 'dying.' Not sure how Dracula or his mysterious helpers could have planned for that." Hopps wrote something down, then crossed it out a moment later, shaking her head. Nick gave her an inquisitive look.

"I cant play dead for much longer Nick," she said, "every time I shut my eyes all I can think about is everyone on the force, all of my friends in the neighborhood…just crying. I mean, the whole city is in a blind panic because they think I'm dead and…and I'm just sitting here." Her ears had slumped, she looked guilty and troubled and angry all at once.

"You cant feel bad about this," Nick assured her, putting a paw over hers, just like she had back in the Rainforest District, just before Dracula had shown up and ruined the moment, "you're in a crazy situation, and you've done a magnificent job handling it. Do you really think that if any of your fellow officers were in your place right now that they wouldn't be panicking right now?" Hopps sighed and then smiled, almost hesitantly.

"You're right," she said at last, "God…what a messed up couple of days this has been." She straightened up in her chair, taking a deep breath as she did so, puffing herself back up into a paragon of professionalism.

"Lead on?" Nick asked. Hopps managed to smile.

"Yep. Now follow along brave fox." She opened the notepad to a fresh page and wrote something down. "The real question now is what Dracula is gonna do next." Nick nodded.

"Good question. If his goal is to create a panic then he's already succeeded, Holt's declared a state of emergency, the news is blowing up day and night about predators on the loose…but there's only so much he can do when I'm the only bogeyman in the city's closet…" Hopps sighed.

"You remember what ZNN was saying about you back when we were in the bunker?" Nick thought back, sifting through a whole mess of ugly news reports loaded with fearful speculation.

"They said an awful lot."

"About Wild Times promoting predator supremacy," Hopps clarified, Nick winced, "they've been running with that angle for a while now, saying that you might have some sort of network of anti-prey crazies at your beck and call." The fur on the back of Nick's neck stood up, an almost electric shock of horror running through him.

"Oh." He said faintly.

"If I were in Dracula's position," Hopps said grimly, "I'd be moving to inject some appearance of truth into those lies. To heighten the panic even further." Nick realized that his paws were shaking once more. It was just so…evil, how ZNN distorted Wild Times and him without the slightest pretense of truth or balance.

"So…some sort of great big attack," he said flatly, "that could happen anywhere Judy," he could feel the acid of panic bubbling up once more, "we're in a city full of crowded places…" But Hopps wasn't looking at him, instead she was gazing over his head, at something behind him, a growing expression of horror on her face. Nick whirled around, but only saw Gazelle smiling back at him from the wall.

ANIMALIA! The poster declared, UNLEASH YOUR WILD SIDE! Nick turned back to Hopps, she gulped.

"That's tomorrow," she said, "God, I almost forgot…I was slated to be on security for it, before, well, you broke out." Nick, who had paid exactly no attention to Gazelle and her activities whatsoever, looked uncertainly to Hopps.

"Is it big?" He asked, feeling that he already knew the answer.

"You know that stadium just south of downtown? The one the city built for the World Cup years and years ago?" Nick nodded, it was a massive construction, vaguely reminiscent of the old Roman Coliseum. "that's where the show is gonna be, and it's _sold out."_ Nick blanched.

"Well," he said after a moment had passed, "that would certainly be a good target." Hopps nodded grimly.

"Whatever Dracula's up to, we've got about thirty six hours to stop it."

"But what if he hits someplace else?" Nick asked, slightly alarmed by Hopps' sudden steely determination.

"There are three hundred thousand seats in that stadium," Hopps said, "and they'll all be full. Where else would you attack if you were a deranged bat-monster?" Good point. Nick nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek.

"So…what's the plan?" He asked. Hopps hesitated for a moment, then snapped her notepad shut.

"We need to go to the top," she said, "Mayor Holt is gonna be at the show, we need to warn him." Nick hesitated for a moment, Hopps gave him a look.

"What if we get caught?" He asked, "before we see him?" Hopps didn't look very concerned.

"I'm a missing ZPD Lieutenant," she said, "and so far any anyone else is concerned you're my prisoner." Nick glanced down to where his collar was still lying on the floor and resisted an urge to kick it under Hopps' bed.

"Alright…" He said, with unhidden reluctance, "but we're gonna need Honey and Finnick if we want to break into the mayor's place." Hopps blinked.

"Break in?" She asked, surprised. Nick nodded.

"If we just walk up to Holt then we'll get arrested and tied up in questioning forever. We'll lose the initiative and Dracula will slip away. We need to be stealthy and get the mayor in private." Hopps didn't look entirely convinced but seemed to realize the merits of Nick's plan.

"So we break into the Palm Hotel," she said, (the Palm Hotel was the tallest building in Sahara Square and the residence of Mayor Holt, who lived on the very top floor in the mayoral penthouse), "get Mayor Holt by himself and then explain to him that there's a bat-monster out to get the Animalia concert. This is gonna need some serious planning if it's gonna work." Nick nodded.

"Which is why we need Honey and Finnick." Hopps blinked.

"Hmm?"

"We aren't gonna get in there by ourselves. We need support." Hopps sighed.

"Alright. So, where can we find them? They're definitely still not in that bunker." Nick blinked.

"Well…" He winced, "I think we'll need to start in the Docks," he said, "plenty of good hiding places there." Hopps nodded.

"We'll need to move quick," she said and looked over to Nick, "lead on?" He smiled.

"Only if the brave bunny follows along." Hopps gave him a mock salute.

"Do you think your fennec friend still has his tinfoil hat on?" She asked, and Nick laughed. He certainly hoped so.


	17. Chapter 17

In the silence that followed Nick heard a very small something shift behind Hopps' bedroom door. His ears perked up. So did Hopps'. She put a finger to her lips and padded stealthily to her door, where she whipped it open.

A small cascade of bunnies poured through her doorway, where they'd been eavesdropping. One of them looked up sheepishly, adjusting his glasses. Nick recognized him as the rabbit who had asked if he was trying to eat Judy the night before.

"Michael," Hopps said sternly, folding her arms and looking down at the tangled pile of bunnies disapprovingly, "it's rude to listen in on other people's conversations." Michael shook his head, pointing to the bunny that made up the bottom of the pile.

"It was Sasha's idea!"

"Was not!" Sasha's protests were muffled. The bunnies slowly disentangled themselves, glancing ruefully about Hopps' room.

"What's a Dracula?" A third bunny asked, this question being greeted by several clamors for answers. Hopps sighed and shook her head.

"How much did you hear?" She asked.

"Not much," Michael admitted at last, "but that was 'cause Doug kept trying to whisper stuff to Joe." Doug, one of the smaller, younger bunnies, folded his arms.

"I was only whispering 'cause Joe couldn't hear." He said, and Hopps frowned.

"Wasn't mom taking you to do something?" She asked.

"It was _boring,"_ the bunnies said in unison, "we wanted to talk to the foxxy." Nick blinked, vaguely surprised. It felt odd to have so many people interested in him, even if they were diversity starved bunnies from suburbia.

"You're not gonna go away until I let you in." Hopps said in flat, toneless realization. Her clutch of siblings nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay," she said, "ground rules. You don't breathe a word of what you heard when you were listening at my door, and you don't pester Nick. Okay?"

"Okay!" The bunnies said in one delighted voice.

"You're the best Judy!" Sasha declared, and within moments there were a dozen excited bunnies arrayed before Nick, like a class of students before a teacher.

"So…uh…what do you want to know?" Nick asked tentatively. The bunnies erupted in a storm of questioning that blurred into itself. Hopps leapt up from her place next to Nick and quieted the horde down with all the precision of a drill instructor. Nick watched this with some awe, he'd been raised an only child, having even one sibling was a foreign concept to him.

"One at a time," Hopps said sternly, "Sasha, you first." Sasha quivered with excitement.

"Do you like Gazelle?" She asked, "I heard you talking about Gazelle. Judy _loves_ Gazelle." Nick shrugged with a small smile.

"I don't know, I've never really listened to her." Sasha looked aghast.

"You need to!" She said, Michael rolled his eyes.

"Gazelle is for girls." He said dismissively, Sasha scowled at him.

"Gazelle," Sasha said hotly, "transcends gender." She glanced at Judy for approval, Judy nodded.

"Good use of 'transcends', Sasha," she said, "now…Joe." Joe, who seemed to be the youngest bunny in the group, stood up and regarded Nick.

"Are you gonna go savage?" He asked, a little fearfully. Hopps shook her head and looked to be about to scold her little brother for asking that, but Nick shook his head very slightly.

"No," he said, "I'm not gonna go savage."

"But isn't it in your biology?" Michael asked. The mood had grown tense.

"Thousands of years ago maybe," Nick said, "but I don't think that it still is. We're evolved now, there's plenty of instincts that have fallen by the wayside."

"Like what?" Michael asked challengingly. Hopps leapt into the conversation.

"Well, back when we were all beasts us rabbits used to eat our own droppings. We don't do that anymore because we evolved away from it." The bunnies convulsed in delighted disgust.

"Gross!" Cried Sasha.

"Why?" Michael asked, nose twitching. But before Hopps could launch into an impromptu biology lesson, Nick saw that one of Hopps' siblings had picked up his collar.

"You wore this?" He asked. Nick nodded.

"Yep. Day and night. You can only ever get it taken off at the doctor's." There was silence for a long moment, then the young rabbit moved to put it around his own neck. Nick stiffened, Hopps leapt forward and snatched the collar away.

"Don't," she said, "this is meant for foxes…if it shocked you then you'd get seriously hurt." The clutch of bunnies stared silently at the collar, no longer quite so innocently curious about it. The black ribbon of nylon and wire and plastic had taken on an air of menace.

"It…hurts you?" Joe asked, alarmed. Michael glanced over at his younger brother with a hint of superiority.

"Of course it does dummy," he said, "how else could you stop someone going savage?" Joe stayed silent, looking troubled.

"But aren't we evolved?" He asked, "Judy said so…" Michael looked unconvinced.

"Some instincts never go away." He said grimly. Nick found himself staring at the floor once more.

"How did you and Judy meet?" Sasha asked, and Nick blinked, surprised by the question.

"Well…" He managed to smile, "it was pretty typical actually. Boy meets girl, girl shoots boy with a stun-gun…I'm sure it happens all the time." Hopps stifled a chuckle, the young bunnies glanced at each other, confused.

"You shot him with a stun-gun?" Sasha asked. Judy nodded, looking slightly guilty.

"I was arresting him, he stood up in front of me so I stunned him and…uh…well…" She chuckled nervously.

"Judy," Michael said with real admiration, "you're awesome."

"She is," Nick agreed, "you guys are lucky to have her."

"Not that I don't appreciate the praise, but-" Sasha stood up.

"Are you in love with each other?" She asked very seriously. Hopps kept a poker face, but just barely. Nick decided that some needling was in order.

"There _was_ this one moment down by the canal," he began, Hopps giving him a surprised look, "we'd just crawled from the water and were trying to catch our breath. I asked your sister to give me the keys to our handcuffs, 'cause we were handcuffed together. She said no, I insisted, and our eyes met for a magical moment…" He gave Hopps a sly smile, the assembled bunnies giggled, not entirely sure if Nick was joking or not.

"Nick…" Hopps warned.

"Just a minute Judy, I'm getting to the good part. But, uh, anyway…our eyes met, she took the keys from her belt and held them up. She stared deep into my eyes, smiled…and then she threw them into the canal." The bunnies giggled, Hopps shook her head ruefully.

"Did you really?" Joe asked. Hopps smiled.

"Stare into his eyes? No. But I _did_ throw the handcuff keys into the canal, because I was not letting him get away."

"So why'd you take his collar off then?" Michael asked, adjusting his glasses once more. Hopps hesitated for a moment.

"Because I was wrong about him," she said after a long moment had passed, "about a lot of stuff. And I needed to do something to make things right."

"So…" Sasha said, "he _isn't_ a criminal?" Hopps shook her head.

"No, he is. But…it's complicated."

"Does he steal from the rich and give to the poor?" A smaller bunny asked.

"No," Nick said, "I ran an amusement park and…and took predator's collars off." Half of the bunnies froze in shock, the other half looked almost excited at the thought of something exotic like a collarless predator.

"What if they went savage?" Michael asked fearfully. Nick shook his head.

"Nobody ever did. Not once." Michael opened his mouth to say something but quailed under a pointed look from Hopps.

"Could we go to your park?" Sasha asked. Nick smiled sadly.

"When it reopens." He promised, wondering if he was talking out of his tail. Like Hopps had said, the City Business Bureau tended to frown upon non-medical enterprises that removed Tame Collars.

But it wasn't like he could just go back to anything criminal. Not after this. The whole city would have its eyes on him…even if he did manage to clear his name and avoid going to prison and…and…

There were too many conditions. Too many horrible little _'ifs'_ floating around his mind.

"Nick?" Nick almost jumped, Hopps had put a paw on his shoulder. "You alright?" He nodded, then Hopps got up and dispersed her siblings.

"Head on downstairs, and don't even think about eavesdropping again, I _will_ know." She shut the door and let out a breath.

"Sorry if they bothered you," she said, "it's just, they've never seen a fox up close before." Nick nodded.

"They're cute," he said, "I never had any siblings growing up, so…I guess I wouldn't know what they're like." Hopps considered this. Nick supposed that to her, and bunnies in general, single children were a foreign concept.

"That sounds…lonely." She said. Nick shrugged.

"I guess, dunno how I would have managed if I had a dozen brothers and sisters…" Hopps looked nonplussed.

"We're hardly the biggest family in the neighborhood, let alone the rest of the Burrows." She said this with a curious reluctance, as though admitting it were somehow shameful.

"How do the poor parents manage?" He wondered aloud. Hopps chewed the inside of her cheek.

"No clue. I guess I don't really think about that too much." She seemed suddenly eager to brush the conversation aside, Nick decided to let her.

"So. Should we start looking for Finnick and Honey?" Hopps nodded, leaping at the opportunity to be given something to do, an objective to achieve.

Hopps' closet was filled with various ZPD equipment, a spare stab-proof vest, what looked to be a dress uniform, running shoes, boots, all in various shades of blue and black. Reaching into the back she withdrew a civilian issue stun-gun and handed it back to Nick. He held the weapon gingerly, almost warily, like it would somehow reach around and zap him at any moment.

"That'll be yours," Hopps said from where she was digging deeper into the closet, piling clothes over her shoulder, "I think I've got a stun-baton somewhere around here…" A moment later she came up with a little black telescopic baton. The tip crackled fiercely with electricity when she activated it, Nick couldn't help but flinch as she did that.

"Are you expecting a fight?" He asked, a tad nervously. Hopps glanced back.

"If Dracula shows up again I want to be ready." Her tone was grim. Nick tucked the stun-gun into his pocket, double checking to make sure that the safety was engaged. He had no argument with that.

"We should start in the Docks," Nick said, "if I were Finnick that's where I would go."

"And if you were Honey?" Hopps asked.

"I…actually have no idea." Nick admitted with a sheepish grin. Honey continually surprised him.

"Well…the Docks are as good a place as any," Hopps said with a sigh as she arrayed the parts of her uniform out onto her bedspread, "now let's go tell my parents."

...

"No!" Bonnie cried, appalled, "absolutely not!" Stu's reaction was similar. Overall it was not a promising start to the conversation. Standing before her parents, bedecked in her police gear, Hopps explained the tentative beginnings of their plan once more, Nick shifting awkwardly from foot to foot as she spoke, unsure of what to add.

"Can't you call ZNN?" Stu asked, "just tell them that you're still alive and that…that you think someone is going to attack Animalia, that would do the same thing and you wouldn't have to go out into the city. It's not safe Judy." Hopps shook her head.

"I can't," she said, a certain reluctance in her tone, "they'll broadcast it all over the city and the person that's done all of this will _vanish._ I cant let him get away, Zootopia is not safe while he's on the loose." Her tone was rock ribbed with determination, her paws had dropped to her hips. Stu and Bonnie shared a helpless look.

"Then call your friends at the ZPD," Bonnie said, "you cant do this on your own Judy…" But once more Hopps shook her head.

"They're good officers," she sighed, "but I know what they would do, because it's what I would have done back then. Taken Nick and I into custody." Nick spoke, his voice quiet.

"And there was already a leak of ZPD documents," he said, "we cant be sure that they'd be able to keep this quiet. Our suspect could catch wind of it and go underground again." There was a long moment of silence, the conversation at an impasse.

"Jude," Stu said, almost pleading now, "you've done enough…you don't need to do any more…" Hopps shook her head slightly, gently rejecting her father's words.

"Judy," Bonnie repeated, "listen to your father. You cant just keep putting yourself in danger like this." Hopps paused, one paw traveling to the gold ZPD badge on the front of her uniform.

"I joined the ZPD to make the city a better place," she said, "and if I don't go out there and do this then it will be the end of the city as we know it." Her words were stark and unassailable.

"You don't have to…" Bonnie said, but she sounded less certain that Judy could be convinced.

"Yes we do." Judy said, and then took Nick's paw. He blinked, surprised by the move, but did nothing to break away. It was important to display solidarity, he supposed. The broken edges of their cuffs clinked together.

"I'm not gonna be able to stop you, am I?" Stu asked at last, and Nick was startled to find that the old rabbit's voice was foggy with tears. Judy smiled sadly.

"That's what you said when I told you I was going to the ZPD Academy…" Bonnie stepped forward and enveloped her daughter in an embrace.

"Don't go Judy." She whispered urgently. Stu was staring down at the ground, paws jammed into his pockets, fighting back tears. He looked lost, resigned to his daughter's departure.

"I have to." Judy said, voice gentle and sad. Bonnie stepped back, linking her arm with Stu's, looking for all the world like she was holding onto him for support. Like she'd collapse if he wasn't there.

"Judy," Stu said, fighting to keep his voice level, "stay safe while you're out there." Bonnie gave him a shocked look but said nothing. She seemed to realize that it was far too late to keep Hopps from her mission.

Their exit from the Hopps house was surprisingly quiet and anticlimactic, the street quiet and empty as they ran quickly to where Hopps had parked the battered old truck she'd stolen from the Rainforest District. It had been draped with a sheet since its arrival and Hopps whipped it off before jumping in, keeping low the entire time. Nick did the same, heart thumping heavily in his chest as he slid into the back seat, lying out of sight.

"Your parents really care about you." He said quietly as the truck's engine chugged to life. Hopps was ducked behind the steering wheel, ears laid back, eyes darting from side to side as she steered them down the street.

"Sometimes they care a little too much," she sighed, "but I can understand why…they _are_ my parents after all." That much was indisputable. They kept on going, leaving Bunny Burrows behind, the scenery melting into parkland and nature refuges, the buildings of the city looming ahead, soft and indistinct in their blanket of velvety smog.

Nick straightened up in his seat a little bit, daring to show just a bit of himself as he took in the view. This was where he had been born, where he had lived, where he had worked and run and laughed and cried and suffered. A whole patchwork of culture and species and climate and everything in between, millions of mammals all managing somehow to work and live and _exist._

And if they weren't quick then someone would tear it all down.

"I take the train to work each morning," Hopps said suddenly, pointing over to an elevated rail line that arced towards the city, joining with others as it headed for Downtown, "and this view…it's honestly my favorite part of the day most days." Nick smiled, he himself had hardly ever seen the city from this perspective. Being out here, in the middle of a prey heavy borough of the city, wasn't exactly safe for a lone predator. But Hopps' words were sweet, they made him feel relaxed.

"Have you ever been outside of the city?" He asked. Hopps nodded.

"Yeah. Plenty of times, there's always lots of family to visit, scattered here, there and everywhere." Nick could only imagine. "What about you?"

"No. Never really considered it. I don't have any family left, and…well, all of my friends and work are here already."

"You should travel sometime Nick," Hopps said, "Zootopia's a great place, but there are lots of things to see and places to…get down!" Nick dove for the floor and heard the oncoming sirens of a ZPD cruiser. For a harrowing moment the cruiser seemed to be right on top of them, then, mercifully, it was heading past, the wail of its klaxons fading away. Hopps had ducked low over the wheel and looked shaky and frightened.

"I thought he was gonna pull me over," she said and chuckled nervously, "God…I'd never have thought I'd ever be afraid of being pulled over by another officer." Nick peered quickly around, saw that the road was clear once more and relaxed.

"What _was_ he going after?" Hopps shrugged.

"No idea, probably on a call. Looked like he was heading for Downtown. Some guys just like to flash their lights and roll their sirens when they're going somewhere…makes them feel important I guess." She shrugged.

"But you never do." Nick said. Hopps smiled.

"I wouldn't say _never,"_ Hopps laughed, still a hint of nervous anxiety in it, "but truth be told, I don't really like the sound of sirens. I guess it's been burnt into my mind to mean I'm headed towards something bad." They were approaching Downtown now, traffic pouring in around them from side roads. Nick ducked down once more and lay practically beneath the back seats, trying to keep his heart from racing too badly.

Hopps drove for quite a long while, trying the radio once or twice but giving up after only getting static. Nick thought that this was a mercy, Judy seemed unhappy about missing out on the traffic reports.

Finally, after some time spent in traffic, the both of them growing increasingly nervous about being spotted, they reached the Grand Central Bridge and things sped up considerably. The bridge connected the two sides of Zootopia and spanned the river, crossing nearly a mile of chocolatey brow water. Nick stayed low but could hear its busy murmur even over the traffic. Not too long ago he had led the police on a merry boat chase across those very waters, with Hopps biting and scratching at him, trying to get him to stop and surrender.

And now she was driving, him in tow, nary a thought about surrender in mind. Funny how that worked.

"Nick?" Hopps asked as they approached the end of the bridge.

"Hmm?" He watched a snowflake drift through the broken front driver's side window. They were approaching Tundra Town now, he suddenly wondered if their truck would be able to navigate the ice and snow of the borough's streets.

"Do you think Koslov is still looking for us?" She was hunched as far down as possible while still being able to see over the steering wheel, definitely nervous.

"Definitely." Hopps sighed.

"Then it looks like our trip to Tundra Town will be brief." Nick nodded.

"Fine with me." They switched lanes and then crunched through a little berm of ice before turning onto another street. The truck fish tailed slightly, but Hopps was going slow, being careful not to spin out of control. She looked horribly nervous, but her paws were still steady. That reassured Nick.

"Nick," she said after a few moments had passed, "I think we're being followed." Nick heart skipped a beat. He got carefully up and peeked out the back window, to where a nondescript red car with snow chains was keeping about thirty feet back. The driver, as far as Nick could see, appeared to be an Arctic fox.

"Red car?" He asked.

"Yeah." Came Hopps' curt reply. Looking around them he realized that Hopps' shortcut had taken them off of the more heavily traveled main streets and out closer to the factories and residential areas.

"Judy," Nick said, heart accelerating, not taking his eyes off of the red car, "I want you to turn back to the main street. There are people there, Koslov wont dare act in front of a crowd." Hopps nodded slightly and slowed down, then put her turn signal on. So did the red car.

They turned.

So did the red car.

Then Hopps gasped and Nick jumped, whirling around in his seat. The road ahead of them had been blocked by a pair of Purrsedes luxury models, sleek and black and hungry looking. Hopps slammed the truck into reverse but their tires skidded on the ice and a moment later the red car roared forward, the driver's face a grimace as he closed in.

Nick threw himself to the floor of the truck, then the red car rear ended them into a snowbank on the side of the street with a crunch and squeal of bending metal and breaking glass. The air bag hissed weakly into action and Nick was thrown into the back of the seats in front of him, yelping as he jarred the cuts on his back.

"Stun-gun!" Hopps was shouting as she battered the airbag down away from her face, struggling to turn in her seat. Her seatbelt had locked and she was yanking against it, face a grimace of mingled panic and anger. For a moment Nick had no idea what she was saying, then he remembered the stun-gun that she'd given to him back at the house.

Fumbling for it, he held it out. Hopps snatched it up and tore free from her seatbelt, firing the stun-gun out her window with a flash and crackle of electricity.

The prongs caught a polar bear in the throat, knocking him back a step, making him drop the stun-baton he'd been holding. A moment later the back passenger side window shattered and Nick had just enough time to try to jump away before a small circle of red hot agony was pressed into his shoulder. He tried to shriek but his muscles had been locked tight, rippling with pain. He toppled, heard Hopps scream, then something was stinging his shoulder. He fumbled up with shock clumsy fingers and managed to rip out a green fletched dart.

"No…" He managed to say, then the world was spinning away from him.

"Yes Nicky." Nick heard Koslov say with cold amusement, then everything was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

He awoke in degrees, aware first of just how _cold_ it was. He was lying on some sort of concrete pad, shivering. He tried to get up but even in the featureless blank that surrounded him everything seemed to be in turmoil. It sent him back to the ground, nausea swelling in the pit of his stomach.

Was this how Hopps had felt when she was waking up from being darted? Nick hugged his knees to his chest and tried not to whimper, increasingly ugly and despairing thoughts filtering through the tranquilizer induced fog that clouded his mind.

After a few minutes he found that he could, if he kept his eyes firmly down on what little of the floor he could see, manage to assume a hunched over sitting position without the vertigo getting too pronounced. He took deep breaths, touched his neck and noted with some relief that his collar was still not present.

If Koslov had somehow found it and put it back on…Nick wasn't sure how he would have reacted.

When his mind had settled somewhat he looked carefully around the room, trying to figure out where he was. He could smell ammonia and bleach, faint traces of cleaners clinging to the walls and floors. There didn't seem to be any furniture, the room was just blank, featureless concrete but for a grated drain in the center of the floor.

It looked like the bay of a car wash, but much smaller, more enclosed and Nick sincerely doubted that anything as benign as cleaning cars had ever occurred in here.

This was not the Winter Palace. Koslov had brought him someplace entirely different. He looked around the room once more, squinting through the almost impenetrable darkness. Even with his night vision there was so little light that he could hardly see anything. But the room was definitely empty, he couldn't hear a thing but his own breathing and the incessant roar of blood in his ears.

Where was Hopps?

Nick forced himself up and stood, swaying like a drunk, paws clasped to his head, which felt much too large for the body it was attached to. But he kept his balance and after a long moment felt his way along the wall, over to where a tiny sliver of light was beaming in from under a metal door. He reached out for the handle but it didn't budge. He was locked in. Shocker.

"Koslov?" He asked aloud, voice echoing through the room, "where'd you take J…Hopps? You can tell me buddy, I don't bite…" Leaning against the wall, exhausted by even that little statement, Nick took another deep breath and tried to force himself to calm down. His voice had been trembling the entire time he'd spoken. If Koslov was listening Nick imagined that the bear was more likely to be amused than anything.

A moment later a lock clunked open with a metallic bang and Nick flinched away, nearly losing his balance. The door swung open and light flooded the room, just about blinding him. Nick swung an arm over his streaming eyes and hunched down, anticipating the tread of heavy feet, the sting and crackle of stun-batons. But nothing came.

He looked up cautiously, eyes slitted against the light.

Out into a larger room, just as blank and featureless as his own cell. He stepped out into it, realizing as he did so that the walls were lined with metal doors that doubtlessly led to other cells. It was entirely silent, and Nick could see nobody at all anywhere near him.

The door to his cell had been opened remotely, he realized. But why? What did Koslov stand to gain by letting him out?

He stepped uncertainly out into the center of the room, shivering as he glanced around him, at the cells. There had to be at least a dozen of them. Nick wondered uneasily how many mammals had been thrown inside. He wondered even more fearfully how many had left this place alive.

There was a narrow hallway on the left side of the room, the ceiling lined with fluorescent lights kept securely behind a chicken wire mesh. It reminded him very much of the holding cell back at Central Station. But there he'd at least had other predators to commiserate with. Here he was…alone.

Walking along the side of the hallway, paw kept up against the frigid concrete just in case his balance failed him, Nick edged closer to the corner, where the hallway turned. His breath steamed in the frigid air, he realized that he could see frost crystals shining from each strand of chicken wire. He stared ahead of himself and peeked quickly around the corner, terrified of what he might see.

But all he saw was a metal door, identical to the one that had locked him into his cell. He approached it warily, and nearly shrieked when the lock disengaged and it swung slowly open, on silent hinges.

Nick froze, staring at what he saw beyond.

"Nicky," Koslov said, with incredible, unnerving fondness, "so glad that you could make it. Please sit down." Nick found himself quite unable to move for a long time, but finally he forced himself to put one foot forward and crossed the threshold.

It was much warmer in this new room, the concrete of the floor gave way to tile, the decor changed from Brutalism to something that wouldn't have been out of place in the Winter Palace. The walls were still concrete, but they had been painted a clean, pleasant blue. The light was still fluorescent but instead of chicken wire they were shielded by Plexiglass. A fire crackled cheerfully from the far corner of the room. Gas, Nick noted as he took another reluctant step into the bizarre room, not wood.

It was then that he saw the chairs. A half dozen of them, high backed armchairs, five arrayed away from Nick, one facing towards him. Koslov sat in this last chair, looking comfortable and content. Like a cat faced with a flightless and very tasty looking bird.

"Why'd you let me out?" Nick asked, standing uncertainly at the front of the room, still shivering, though not from cold this time.

"Sit down Nicky," Koslov said in lieu of an answer, "join your friends." Nick felt the fur on the back of his neck rise. Friends? But Koslov had only taken Hopps…right? He took another reluctant step forward, time seeming to elongate and stretch around him.

As he moved around the side of the armchairs he let out a low groan and nearly sank to the floor. It was only through supreme effort that he didn't.

Honey, Finnick and Hopps occupied three of the five chairs, their wrists fettered to the armrests, legs tied in a similar fashion. None of them seemed to have been harmed but that hardly comforted Nick. Finnick was staring unhappily at the floor, trembling with rage.

"What do you want Koslov?" Nick asked, pausing by the end chair. This one, and the one in the very center of the row had been left empty. Nick had a good idea of which one Koslov wanted him to sit down in.

"Lots of things," Koslov said blandly, "but right now I would like you to stop dallying and _sit down."_ The last two words were delivered with such menace that even Finnick flinched. Nick moved to the center chair and sat down, keeping his arms away from the armrests, ready to spring up if Koslov made a move. But the bear was quite still. It was only him in the room, Nick had noticed, his enforcers were nowhere to be seen. But that didn't mean that they weren't present, Nick was sure that if Koslov wanted to then he could send them crashing in at any moment.

"Nick," Finnick said, "your collar…" Honey was staring as well, both transfixed by the sight of Nick's bare neck. Their own collars were still on, and seeing that made Nick feel even worse. Hopps was silent, staring down at the floor, nose twitching frenetically away.

"Are you all okay?" Nick asked, glancing from Hopps to Finnick to Honey, "he didn't hurt you, did he?" Finnick and Honey shook their heads slowly, Hopps following a moment later.

"I've been through worse," Finnick said distractedly, "but Nick, your _collar,_ your cuffs, what happened? Why do you still have the bunny with you?" Koslov shifted in his seat, the conversation abruptly stopped.

"Your friend brings up some excellent questions," the bear said, "tell me what happened." Nick opened his mouth to begin but then shook his head.

"Why'd you abduct my friends?" He asked. Koslov looked almost surprised to be being questioned by Nick. But he just shrugged.

"You know Nicky, your exit from Tundra Town really confused me for the longest time. You fell down a hill and then, poof, gone. Both the ZPD and I knew that you must have fallen into a vehicle or hijacked a car, but we had no idea where you had gone. I thought that surely you were heading for the Docks, but there was nothing there, same deal with Sahara Square…" He paused, shaking his head ruefully, "that was when I decided to start looking around for _signs_ of your presence rather than where I _thought_ you must be. I listened to the police frequencies and had my boys take a look at each break in or stolen car on this side of the river. And where we finally got lucky was some recycling outfit in the Rainforest District. Not only did these folks have a hole dug under their fence and nothing apparent stolen from them, but they also had a lovely big open bed truck that had gone through Tundra Town on the day of your spectacular escape. So we went looking, and soon enough we found a lovely little bunker, with a mouthy fennec and a chubby cheetah stashed inside. So naturally we took them both, wouldn't you?" Nick stared, alarmed by the lengths that Koslov had gone to just to find him.

"They had nothing to do with this…" He started but Koslov waved an impatient paw.

"They hid you Nicky," he said sternly, "that's not exactly _nothing."_ He shook his head, directing some mild reproach at Nick. Nick could feel fur all over his body bristling, Koslov drinking in his terror, thriving on it.

"Just let them go," Nick said, "please." Koslov chuckled, ignoring Nick's plea.

"After we found your friends and learned that you and the little bunny had been there, was look around for more signs. And soon enough we found that a little truck in the area had been stolen, just the right size for a fox on the run. We convinced the owner to not bring his concerns to the ZPD and went hunting for that vehicle. And soon enough we found it, in my own backyard!" Koslov laughed, delighted by this. Nick found that he was grinding his teeth, trying hard not to betray his fear to Koslov.

"Get to the point," Finnick growled, "are you gonna kill us or what?" Koslov smiled benevolently at the fennec, evidently having become accustomed to his outbursts.

"Soon enough." He said, then returned his gaze to Nick.

"But though I know enough of the story to have found you," he said, "there are still gaps. How did your handcuffs get broken? How did you acquire those gashes on your back? Why is your collar off? And, perhaps most interestingly, why have you and the little bunny decided to join forces?" Hopps looked up from the floor and took a deep breath.

"I took his collar off," she said, "because it was the right thing to do." Finnick and Honey stared in astonishment, Koslov blinked, nonplussed.

"She…did what?" Honey asked.

"We got attacked after we left the bunker," Nick said, "by…something. It cut our chains with a welding torch, we managed to run away but not before it cut my back. I saved Hopps' life, then she saved mine and…I guess we realized that we're not so different after all." Koslov had cocked his head in curiosity. Finnick blinked slowly, completely overwhelmed.

"What attacked you?" Koslov asked.

"It looked like a bat," Hopps said, "a big one. Bigger than Nick." At this the bear's expression grew a little less amused. Hopps saying something like that had a weight of credibility that Nick, Finnick and Honey couldn't match.

"Did this bat creature speak?" Koslov asked, looking slightly alarmed.

"He…told me to 'go' after he cut the chain," Nick said, "I think he only wanted to kill Hopps…" Koslov was silent for a few moments.

"You are putting me in a difficult situation Nicky," he sighed, "I want very badly to kill you and your friends, but at the same time you seem to have become entangled in something much larger than any of us. And killing you might not be so wise if that is the case." Koslov grew pensive, falling silent. Nick forced himself to take a deep breath, spelling the banal horror of Koslov's words.

"We _know_ that there's a conspiracy," Hopps said before Nick could speak, "whoever this bat thing is, he's trying to spread fear and chaos throughout the city. And I think he's going to attack the Animalia concert tomorrow." Koslov checked his watch.

"Today," he corrected, "you've been asleep for some time little bunny." Hopps blanched, Nick felt his stomach lurch.

"What time is it?" He asked hesitantly.

"Eleven," Koslov said blandly, "I think that the tranquilizers I hit you with were meant for wolves, not foxes or bunnies. A simple mistake to make…" Hopps gave Nick a panicked look.

"The concert begins in four hours!" She cried, and Koslov cocked his head, watching her struggle against her bindings.

"What proof do you have that Mr. Bat is going to attack Animalia?" He asked. Hopps gritted her teeth, growing angry.

"Look at what's going on," she growled, "the media has been saying over and over for days that Nick might have accomplices, that he was using Wild Times as a recruiting center for anti-prey extremists. There's no proof for any of that besides some vague speculation on a single police report that was leaked, and eventually people will realize that if nothing happens. So, if you're trying to create a panic then what would you do in order to make things even worse for predators than they already are…?" She stared at Koslov. Koslov stared back.

"I can see your point little bunny, and it is a good one, but tell me. What could you possibly do to stop this if I were to let you go?"

"Us." Hopps corrected fiercely, "let _us_ go." Koslov chuckled at her defiance.

"What's your plan to foil the bat creature?" He asked again. Hopps explained, Koslov listened.

"Sneaking into the Palm Hotel, dressed as you are," he looked over Hopps and Nick, both of whom looked very ragged, "would get you both arrested. And even if you were able to get into an elevator or onto the stairwell then you'd need a special electronic key to access the top floor, where Mayor Holt is. I have friends who work there, friends who code the keys and watch the cameras and cook the food. I know the Palm Hotel and it is clear that you don't. Your plan is doomed to fail little bunny." His words were blunt.

"So you're just going to let the city fall apart?" Hopps cried, outraged. Koslov shook his head slowly.

"No. That would be irresponsible. There are less harebrained ways of foiling Mr. Bat, like calling in a series of bomb threats at Animalia, which would force security to do another sweep and maybe discover whatever your bat monster is planning." Hopps shook her head fiercely.

"No!" She cried, "that's only a temporary measure, it wont stop him from planning future attacks. We have to keep this quiet, so that we can catch him here and now." Koslov sighed, exasperated.

"I don't know what to tell you then." Nick blinked, a surprising flower of hot anger bursting to life in his chest. He stood up on his seat, so that he was roughly at eye level with the bear.

"Then help us," he said sharply, Koslov glancing over, surprised, "help us save the city."

"Sit down Nicky." Koslov said wearily, like a father trying to keep himself calm with an unruly child.

"You can even have me," Nick said, jabbing a thumb into his own chest, "I will stay here of my own free will if you let Judy and Finnick and Honey go and try to stop this monster from destroying the city. I will stay here because I am sick and tired of being afraid of you Koslov." Koslov stared, eyes darkening with fury. Nick stared right back, arms folded, anger humming through him like electricity through a high voltage wire.

Ancient instinct shrieked at him from the back of his mind, telling him to run, to hide, to drop to his knees and beg. Anything to preserve himself. But every time those voices got too loud he remembered Finnick, Honey, Hopps, his father, Wild Times. Everything that he had fought and lived for. Everything that would be destroyed if he let this bully have his way.

"Take me instead," Finnick growled, straining against his bindings, teeth bared, "I'll show you how a fennec dies." Honey leaned forward as well, eyes wide with terror, lower lip trembling.

"Take me!" He shouted, voice trembling, "leave Nick alone!" Hopps was saying something too, fierce and full of determination. Nick stared, surprised, stunned by what everyone was doing, their voices all blurred together into one glorious wave of dissent.

"ENOUGH!" Koslov roared, and slammed one massive fist down onto the arm of his chair, something crunched and sagged within the velvet cushioning, the bear hardly seemed to notice. He rose from his seat and loomed over Nick, everyone falling silent. Nick stared up at the bear, gritting his teeth, forcing himself not to cringe away.

"Let them go." He said, voice just barely level. Koslov regarded him for a long, uncomfortable moment, then turned away, paws clasped behind his back.

"I may never forgive you for the danger you put my son in Nicky," he said, "but at very least I can respect your courage. Something has happened to you since we last met, you've gained an inner fire. A determination. The Nicky that whimpered and wailed when he was held over my ice machine is not present, instead there seems to be a new fox staring back at me," he turned, "I do not know if letting you go ahead with your ridiculous plan to infiltrate the mayor's residence is wise, but you must believe strongly in it if you and your friends are willing to offer your lives so unflinchingly." Nick remained standing, his legs feeling rubbery and unstable. His heart was racing, his extremities numb with terror, yet Koslov didn't sound especially angry anymore. Just surprised and…bizarrely respectful.

"If we go ahead with it," Nick said, "we're going to need help. You yourself said as much." Koslov eyed him with a bemused smile.

"I still may kill you Nicky," he said, "what makes you think that asking a favor from me right now is wise?" Nick hesitated, then decided to forge ahead. He'd gone this far, what was a little further into the lion's den?

"I don't. But I know that you care about this city sir, and you would do anything to keep it safe." Koslov sat back down on his half ruined chair. It groaned alarmingly under his weight but the bear didn't move.

"Convince me Nicky."

"What kind of world do you want Morris to grow up in sir?" Nick asked, and for a long moment Koslov was silent.

"I have a friend in the Palm who can slip you a special key that will get you to the top floor," Koslov said at last, "after that you are on your own. Nicky, you may cut your friends loose and decide who stays with me as a hostage." Koslov withdrew a golden letter opener from the breast pocket of his suit, unsheathed the blade from a velvet scabbard, and tossed it to the floor with a clatter. Nick stared down at it before picking it up. In his paws the letter opener was almost a sword.

"He can take me," Finnick said, fixing Koslov with a defiant and unfriendly glare, "I'm not any good in a fight, and besides, me and him have unfinished business." Koslov flicked an amused glance to Finnick and raised an eyebrow at Nick.

"He's going to get himself killed someday Nicky." The bear said, an undertone of ominous sentiment belied by a gentle sort of contempt aimed at Finnick. Nick had nothing to say to that. He cut Finnick's bonds and put a paw on the fennec's shoulder.

"Don't antagonize him." He warned, and Finnick smiled thinly.

"Can't make any promises." He hopped out of his chair, massaging his sore wrists. Honey and Hopps were freed in a similar fashion and Nick laid down the letter opener, watching uncertainly as Koslov stood up.

"There is one final thing I must tell you," the bear said gravely, "if you are caught or in any way put in a position where you may compromise me to the authorities, I will kill every single member of your families, down to the third generation. You and any semblance of your bloodline will be erased from the world if you decide to snitch on me, understood?" This put a fresh chill through Nick and he just barely managed to keep from flinching. Hopps was shivering with rage, her fists clenched. Honey stared meekly at the ground, foil wrapped collar rustling faintly as he tried to keep himself from panicking.

"Oh, and Nicky," Koslov said, pausing as he headed for the door at the far end of the room, "Morris says hello." Then the bear was gone. Finnick stared.

"Did…that really happen?" Honey asked faintly a few moments later. Nick glanced over to Hopps.

"Are you alright?" He asked. Hopps nodded jerkily, very evidently frightened by Koslov's last threat.

"Just peachy," the bunny said, her voice crackly with terror, "Andrei Koslov just threatened to wipe out my entire family…" She sank to the floor, shivering. Nick sat down beside her, Finnick and Honey watching with some confusion.

"So…" Finnick said, "you guys okay?" Hopps nodded, collecting herself, and Nick gave the fennec a wan smile and a thumbs up.

"A-okay. And Finn, remember what I said." Finnick smiled thinly.

"If he messes with me then I'll mess with him." He said grimly. Honey sighed and then enfolded the fennec in a hug. Finnick kicked and tried to break free but the cheetah just rocked in place, holding tightly onto the squirming fennec.

"Promise me you'll stay safe." He said, and Finnick managed to pop his head free from Honey's arms.

"Will you let me go if I do?" He asked, fur mussed and whiskers askew.

"Maybe…" Honey said coyly.

"Alright, Christ, I wont poke the bear…" A moment later the door at the front of the room clunked open once more, disgorging a pair of enforcers. Nick recognized one of them as Konstantin.

"Long time no see buddy!" He said with false cheerfulness as the bears herded them out of the room. Konstantin gave Nick a withering look.

"You better not mess this up," he said, "or else the boss is gonna make us wipe out a bunny family. Do you have any idea how long that would take?" Nick had nothing to say to that. Hopps' ears had drooped, she still looked abjectly frightened, but was no longer shivering.

"I didn't know that he was gonna threaten our families…" Nick whispered to Hopps but she just shook her head.

"It's fine." She said curtly, and they kept walking. Finnick and one of the enforcers peeled off into a side room at one point, the fennec giving them a cheery wave before vanishing from sight. Nick hoped that he would be alright.

Finally they piled into an elevator, squeezed tightly in. Konstantin gave them a look of mild annoyance, then pushed the button for the first floor. Nobody spoke.


	19. Chapter 19

They stood in uncomfortable silence in the cold fluorescent emptiness of a parking garage for some time before a white van purred to a halt before them. It was clean, new and bore the logo of a very prestigious catering service. Nick was unsurprised to find that they were tied very closely with Koslov.

"Bring them to the Palm?" The driver asked from his place in the front seat. He was a ram, wool carefully styled into some sort of odd swoop that made Nick dizzy just looking at it. His hooves tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, he didn't look pleased wth Konstantin's request.

"Yes," the bear said, "Mr. Koslov's orders. You're to bring them to Hubble." The ram regarded the row of fugitives for a long moment.

"This _fox,"_ he pronounced the last word with a special sort of malice, "is hotter than the sun right now. I'll take the bunny and the cat, but there aint no way I'm carrying anyone like him." Konstantin's eyes turned cold. Evidently he sympathized with the ram, but that didn't change the fact that he was going against Koslov's orders.

"I'm not going if he's not going." Hopps said firmly, beating Konstantin to the punch. She folded her arms defiantly. The ram blinked, surprised, but didn't voice any of the questions that were doubtlessly spinning through his mind.

"You're muddying things Doug," Konstantin said, tone ominous, "either take them where they need to go or else you'll upset Mr. Koslov." There was no special menace in his actions, his body language didn't change, but any goodwill in his eyes (and there was precious little of that even at the best of times) had guttered out like a candle in a breeze. Doug the ram flinched slightly backwards.

"Come on!" A muffled voice called from the back of the van, and Doug jumped again, "we're gonna be late, just load 'em in." He leveled a sour gaze at whoever was occupying the back of his van, then sighed.

"Tell Koslov that this is the last time I ferry any malcontents for him, okay?" But under the bluster in his voice Nick could hear a little bit of fear in the ram's tone. Konstantin had spooked him.

"Tell him yourself." Konstantin said sharply, and turned on his heels, looking down at Hopps, Nick and Honey. He jerked a finger sharply at the catering van. "In." He said brusquely. They obeyed.

The inside of the van had been stripped of seats and was packed instead with catering trolleys, boxes and a single dainty looking black cat. The cat cocked his head as he caught sight of Nick.

"Oh man, you're Nick Wilde right?" He asked with a grin, like he was meeting a celebrity. Nick nodded uncomfortably, shuffling into a little space between the wall and a box of what looked to be silverware. Hopps squeezed in next to him, giving up the rest of what empty space there was to Honey.

"Yeah…" Nick said. The cat extended a paw. Nick shook.

"You're awesome," the cat said, voice practically a purr, "sticking it to the ZPD like that. Uh, no offense bunny." He slid a little deferential glance over to Hopps, who shrugged stiffly, still rattled from their encounter with Koslov.

"None taken." She said quietly. The cat fingered his collar, trying and failing not to stare at Nick's unadorned neck.

"You even have your collar off," he said excitedly, "that's so _cool!"_

"Shut it Bertie," Doug warned from the front of the van, voice sour, "last thing we need is your yapping bringing the ZPD down on us." There was a little window with a sliding glass shutter connecting the front of the van to the back and the cat (Bertie, Doug had called him) snapped it shut with a roll of his amber eyes.

"What a square." He said with a sardonic smile.

"So," Hopps said as the van began to move, "what's the plan once we reach the Palm?" Bertie shrugged slightly.

"Go to Hubble I guess, he's Koslov's main man in the Palm." Nick had never heard mention of anyone by that name while in Koslov's employ, but then again he'd never set foot in the Palm, so perhaps that was unsurprising.

"Hubble?" He asked.

"Freaky dude," Bertie said, with a tone of almost religious fear, "dunno what he does, but Koslov's in pretty tight with him." Nick cocked his heard, surprised that Bertie, a mere caterer, had such intimate knowledge of Koslov's inner circle.

"How long have you known Koslov?" Nick asked. Bertie shrugged.

"A few years, I've catered parties for him before, and believe me man, you _hear things."_ Nick knew what the cat meant, he decided to go back to the subject of their plan.

"So Hubble will get us access to the top floor…" Bertie's eyes widened.

"Oh man, you're going up to the mayor's house? Dude…" He looked stunned but also awe inspired. "You gotta give me an autograph or something, you're just too cool to believe man." Nick blinked, surprised by Bertie's enthusiasm. After hearing so much abject hatred and paranoia directed towards him it felt out of place and odd.

"No autographs," Hopps interjected, "we cant leave any trace that we were here…in case we get caught." But from the look on her face Nick could tell that her mind was on the other consequences of capture that Koslov had listed. Konstantin's words on the subject of bunny families came back to Nick and he felt his skin crawl. Poor Hopps…how she was managing he did not know.

"Bunny's got a badge and a license to buzzkill…" Bertie muttered. Nick felt a flash of annoyance sear through him.

"Lay off," he said, "she's the one that removed my collar." Bertie blinked. Glanced uncertainly between Nick and Hopps. Blinked again.

"Wait…what?" He asked, supremely confused.

"She took my collar off," Nick repeated, "she's on our side." Bertie opened his mouth to say something but shut it again.

"Sorry," he said finally, "I didn't know…"

"It's fine," Hopps said, "just…let's try to get along."

The drive was brief, Tundra Town and Sahara Square shared a border and Nick felt the temperature shoot up as they passed over. The snow and weather machines that kept Tundra Town cool generated a considerable amount of heat, which was blasted over Sahara Square, keeping the climate nice and arid.

Then they were slowing down, and Nick saw Bertie's fur bristle up in fright.

"Checkpoint." He hissed, _"hide."_ The cat fumbled around Nick, opening up a sliding door in the side of the serving trolley. It had been cleared out and Nick more or less tumbled in, being followed by Hopps a moment later. Bertie snapped the door shut and in the darkness they heard the cat trying his best to shove Honey into the other trolley.

"Ow, not so rough!" Honey whined, then there was a crash and the click of the sliding door.

"Not a word." The cat said, quite unnecessarily, and then Nick could hear hooves clicking on the pavement outside, someone approaching the driver's side of the van. He stayed very still, Hopps pressed up next to him. He could feel her heart pattering away, her ears twitching as more hooves approaching.

"License and registration sir." Nick heard a muffled voice say. He pressed his ear up to the side of the trolley to hear better. Doug fumbled for the requested items, Nick could hear him hunting through his glovebox for a disconcertingly long time before producing them. Nick could tell that the ram was nervous even from where he was. Not good. The ZPD would see it too, and then…

The door of the van was slid open and Nick couldn't stop himself from flinching, even though he knew that the officers couldn't see him. Hopps took a deep breath, staring down at the floor. Nick stayed perfectly still, hardly daring even to breathe.

"ID sir." The officer at the side of the van said, voice flat and neutral. Nick could imagine his gaze roving around the inside of the catering van, searching for anything at all out of the ordinary.

"Of course officer." Bertie said, voice having taken on a docile and respectful edge that Nick would have hardly thought possible of the cat mere minutes earlier. The officer scanned Bertie's collar with a beep.

"Albert Fowler?" The officer asked. Bertie answered in the affirmative. Up front the officer questioning Doug seemed to have ended his questioning and was walking away. The officer in back though…

"Date of birth?" He asked. Bertie told him. Nick chewed the inside of his cheek, wishing with all of his might for the officer to just go away. This was far more intensive questioning than he had ever received at checkpoints, for the most part the ZPD trusted their scanners.

"Where you taking all of this stuff kitty?" The officer asked, and stepped into the van. Nick felt his heart skip a beat. Hopps gripped onto his paw suddenly and he almost hit the roof, but forced himself to remain still.

"The Palm Hotel officer," Nick heard Bertie say, admirably calm, "we have a catering event there in less than an hour."

"With just the two of you catering?" The officer asked, naked suspicion coloring his tone. Nick decided to return the grip that Hopps was putting on his paw, heart accelerating until he was sure that even the officer outside could hear it.

"This is spare equipment," Bertrand said, "backups in case we run into unforeseen circumstances. Like, for instance there may be more guests than we anticipated, necessitating the usage of another trolley to deliver-" The officer cut him off, growing bored of the exchange.

"Alright, you're free to go kitty." The officer left the van, the vehicle rocking slightly on its chassis as he left, and Bertie shut the door with an annoyed growl.

"We good?" Nick heard Doug ask from up front, his voice crackling with anxiety.

"A-okay," Bertie said, then muttered something dark, "ZPD…they get worse and worse with each passing day, I swear." A pause. "No offense bunny."

"None taken." Hopps sighed. They drove on.

...

When Bertie finally opened the trolley up and let them out they had parked in a back corner of some massive subterranean parking garage. Nick left the trolley gratefully and stretched, working a whole array of kinks from his neck and back. Hopps did much the same thing, straightening the fur on her ears as Bertie and Doug did their best to extract Honey.

A few minutes and many yowls and complaints later Honey was limping away from the trolley, looking shell shocked.

"Never again." He breathed, then leaned up against the wall, trying to repair the damage done to his collar's aluminum foil covering. Doug shut the van grimly and wiped his forehead.

"Never again is right," he growled, "I'm going straight to Koslov and telling him he can look for some other ram to handle his smuggling errands from now on…" But even as he said that Nick could see some of the bluster draining from the ram. Perhaps Doug was recalling just how sharp Konstantin's teeth looked, or what his claws were probably capable of.

"Thanks for bringing us here," Hopps said, ignoring Doug's belligerent tone, "it was really a great help…" Doug just frowned and stomped irritably away. Bertie extended a paw to Hopps.

"Sorry if I was a jerk back there," he said, "just…didn't think that the ZPD could ever change, you know?" Hopps nodded, smiling wanly back.

"It's fine," she said, "just…remember not to start thinking of anyone as a caricature." Bertie nodded, managing to smile now.

"I'll think about that," he said, turning to Nick, "and you," he shook Nick's paw vigorously once more, "keep on fighting the good fight man." Nick couldn't help but smile.

"Hopefully the fight wont last all that much longer." Bertie nodded enthusiastically at this, tugging absently on his collar.

"Bertie!" Doug called from the cab of the van, "daylight's burning!" Bertie stepped away reluctantly.

"Gotta go," he said apologetically and put out a fist to Honey, who gave it a weak bump, "catch you later." Then he was swinging into the front passenger seat of the van, which gunned away, leaving the three of them behind.

"So…" Nick said, in the silence that followed, "where's Hubble?"

"You mean me." Came a calm, almost effeminate voice from behind them. Nick jumped, Hopps and Honey whirled around, to where a stark white rabbit was looking over them with a stern and somewhat unhappy expression.

"Oh, uh…so you're gonna give us the electronic key?" Honey asked. Hubble ignored the question, keeping his gaze on Nick and Hopps.

"I didn't realize that Koslov was sending you in person," he said mildly, "that was a huge risk to take. But you're here now, so we must persevere, yes?" The question was entirely rhetorical and Hubble waited for no answer, instead turning sharply on his heels and heading for a maintenance door that he opened with a little white card that hung around his neck.

"Mr. Hubble," Hopps called, hurrying to keep up with the rabbit's rapid pace, "what's the plan exactly? When do we get the card?" Hubble glanced back disinterestedly, then sighed and slowed down. They were in a grimy hallway now, lit with a flickering bank of fluorescent lights.

"Hubble is my first name," he said to Hopps, then turned his gaze to Honey, "and before I hand over the key we must take control of the cameras. In each elevator there is a camera, which will spot you if you try and go up to chat with the mayor. If you do that then security will stop your elevator car between floors and then drop tear gas down the shaft until you are either dead or wishing that you were. Understand?" He received a chorus of uncertain nods in response, then a raised paw from Honey. "Yes…?" He asked.

"Where…are the cameras?" He asked. Hubble looked Honey over, cocking his head as he did so.

"You're the cheetah that did the wiring at Mr. Wilde's park, are you not?" Honey nodded enthusiastically, pleased to have been recognized.

"Yes!" Hubble pointed to Honey's neck.

"Get rid of that foil," he said sharply, "you're making too much noise." Honey blinked and Nick nudged his friend in the side.

"Do it." He intoned. Honey reluctantly removed the foil, saying something under his breath that sounded very much like 'think happy thoughts…'

"Good," Hubble said, watching scraps of foil drop to the floor, "you," he pointed to Honey, "are going to help me with the cameras while Mr. Wilde and Lieutenant Hopps go upstairs. Okay?" Honey nodded uncertainly, unsure if he was going to like the strange, stern rabbit that Koslov had landed them with.

"What do we do?" Hopps asked. Hubble gave her a sideways glance.

"Stay out of sight," he said, "and take this." The rabbit had withdrawn a tiny little radio that he tossed to Hopps. It looked like a micro version of her police radio. "The range on this is abysmal, but it'll work between this floor and the top, provided you're fairly close to an elevator shaft. Try and keep in touch." Hopps promised that she would and Hubble proceeded onwards once more, leading them up a flight of stairs and along more blank, grimy maintenance hallways.

"Up ahead are the cameras," he said after a few minutes had passed, "you," Hubble snagged a handful of Honey's shirt and more or less yanked him along, "come with me. You," a finger pointed to Nick and Hopps, "stay here and make no noise." They had come to a great big door, a window taking up much of the top half. Hubble and Honey disappeared through it. Nick stayed still for maybe three seconds before his curiosity got the better of him. He padded cautiously forward and got onto his tip toes, just barely able to peer through the window.

"What are you doing?" Hopps hissed from behind him, "you'll get us both caught." Nick shushed her and watched Hubble and Honey walk, Hubble coldly confident, Honey clearly nervous. They were headed for a room on the other side of the hallway from where Nick was watching.

A moment later Hopps joined Nick at the window, having to jump up to see anything. After a moment Nick offered her a paw and boosted her onto his back. She peered cautiously from between his ears.

Hubble rapped on the door, Honey kneading his paws anxiously together. A moment later the door opened, revealing a wildebeest in a dark blue security uniform.

"Yeah?" He asked. Hubble smiled pleasantly.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Harold Decker, from the City Board of Sanitation, and this is my assistant," he gave a brief gesture to Honey, who smiled nervously at the wildebeest, "we were wondering if we could access some of your footage, particularly that of the kitchen, in order to put to rest some troubling allegations concerning-" The wildebeest cut Hubble off, and Nick saw Hubble's features undergo an alarming change, shifting immediately from friendly and warm to icy and frigid.

"You got a warrant?" The wildebeest asked, eyes narrowing.

"Of course," Hubble said, voice just as calm and pleasant as ever, let me grab it," a paw slipped into his jacket, then he paused, eyes going wide with concern, "oh dear, I'm not sure if I've ever seen _that_ error before." From where Nick and Hopps were watching they could see that all of the computer screens inside of the surveillance too were just fine, but the wildebeest turned anyway. Hubble took his paw from his jacket and calmly shot the security guard in the back of the neck with a very familiar looking green fletched dart. The wildebeest turned back around, looking confused, then slumped down to the floor. Hubble stepped through the doorway, across the wildebeest's legs and fired a second dart. A moment later Nick saw a deer tumble into view, a dart protruding from his shoulder. Hubble glanced back across the hallway at them and shook his head disapprovingly at their illicit observation. A moment later, Honey in tow, the rabbit was gone, the door to the surveillance room clicking shut.

"Sweet cheese and crackers," Hopps said with horrified awe, "he just darted those poor guards." Nick let the bunny down off of his back.

"What did you think he was gonna do?" Hopps shrugged, looking troubled. A moment later her radio crackled and Hopps dug it out of her pocket.

"We are going to play loops of old footage from last night when you use the elevator," Hubble said, "so that if anyone else is watching then they wont be tipped off. Now come across the hallway, the coast is clear." They did so, looking both ways just to be sure. But the halls were empty but for the cold, clinical gaze of the security cameras. Nick opened the door to the surveillance room and noted that the two guards had been sat up in the corner, where they were gently snoring. Hubble and a decidedly frightened Honey were seated next to each other, observing the cameras.

"Nick," Honey said, voice trembling, "please stay safe. You too Judy." Nick ruffled the fur between Honey's ears.

"We'll be careful." He assured the cheetah, then Hubble was turning around in his chair, a black card with a golden city emblem held between two fingers.

"I want you to destroy this as soon as you're done using the elevator," he said gravely, "it's important that nobody ever traces it back to me." Hopps accepted the card and Nick assured the bunny that he would do what had been requested.

"The elevator is down the hall and to your left," Honey said, pointing to one of the cameras with a chubby finger, "looks like the coast is clear."

They headed off, leaving Hubble and Honey behind, increasingly nervous as they walked along the hallways. They didn't encounter a single other mammal, which only made the journey eerier.

"You think Mayor Holt will listen to us?" Nick asked as they reached the elevator. It was almost alarmingly ornate, compared to the bland concrete and tile that surrounded it. He pressed the gilt button, listened as somewhere far away the elevator car responded. For a moment Nick worried that perhaps there was somebody in the elevator car and that the doors would open to the sight of a security guard or maintenance worker. But Hubble didn't radio in to warn them, and when the doors opened the elevator car was completely empty.

As the doors slid shut behind them Hopps inserted the black card and immediately the car began to hum upwards, not stopping at a single other floor along the way. Nick supposed that the card gave priority to the top floor over all else.

"I don't know," Hopps said after a long moment of silence, "but…Animalia starts in two hours…we _have_ to get him to listen to us, or else a lot of innocent people are going to die." Nick had nothing to say to that. He took a deep breath.

The elevator came to a halt with a muted ding.

The doors slid open.


	20. Chapter 20

They were met with complete stillness, and silence to match. The elevator was in the very center of Mayor Holt's residence, and around them stretched a marble floored central pavilion with a small garden. Herbs and flowers grew quietly there, Nick noted, he could smell lavender and mint and sage and…iron(?) Hopps' nose was twitching, she took a small step out of the elevator. Nick followed, feeling fur starting to stand up on the back of his neck.

"I wish Koslov had given me back my baton." She muttered, eyes roving across the empty pavilion. Beyond were frosted glass walls, dividing them from an outer ring of rooms. Holt's office was one, a personal gym another, and so on and so forth.

"When we're going to meet the mayor?" Nick asked, suddenly aware that his voice was shaking slightly, "I doubt he would have approved if we showed up armed." The words practically echoed in the silence.

"Where is everyone?" Hopps wondered aloud, ears standing straight up, teeth gritted unconsciously. Her nose was still twitching frenetically away. Nick had come to recognize this as a sign that the bunny was scared, which hardly reassured him.

Nick stepped further into the pavilion, claws clicking on marble, the silence nearly oppressive now.

"Mr. Mayor?" Nick called. His voice echoed in the room. No reply.

"Something's wrong," Hopps muttered, and fished out the radio that Hubble had given her. For a disconcerting moment all she got was static, then the frequency cleared.

"Yes…?" Hubble asked.

"It's empty up here," Hopps said, glancing around her now, "no guards, no mayor…something's wrong." For a long moment Hubble was silent, then he sighed.

"It's always something." He muttered, then ended the transmission. Hopps stared at the radio, riding the line between horror and outrage, and had opened her mouth to say something when the light began to drain from the room.

There came a light mechanical hum, then…suddenly it was growing darker in all directions, the light filtering through the panes and panes of frosted glass that formed the walls of Holt's residence suddenly losing strength and coherence.

Hopps bristled, eyes widening as she realized what was happening.

"The shutters," she said, "they're closing." A moment later the entire top floor of the Palm had been shrouded in an impenetrable blackness. Nick grabbed onto Hopps' wrist and backed up, until he could feel the elevator door behind him.

"Press the button," he hissed to Hopps, "we need to get out of here." Even with his night vision the room before him was a vague shadowland of intersecting shapes and walls. He tried to recall the layout of the room, what he had noticed before the windows were blocked off.

"We can't," Hopps said, "we have to find Mayor Holt, he could be in danger." Nick opened his mouth, but before the words could come he heard a very unpleasant and unfortunately familiar _whoosh._

"Down!" He shouted, and tackled Hopps off to the side. A moment later there came a tremendous hollow bang as their assailant landed a massive blow against the elevator doors. Nick turned onto his back, squinting into the blackness, trying to see where Dracula the bat monster had gone.

There was something crouched in front of the elevator doors, but he could make out nothing more than a vague shape. Hopps was trembling, clutching onto his arm. Her night vision was nowhere near as good as his, he realized, she was completely lost in the blankness that the top floor had become.

He scooted backward on the marble and suddenly the bat was rushing forward again, feet first. Nick rolled aside, taking Hopps with him, and heard claws scrape against marble for a horrible moment ( _like claws on a chalkboard,_ he thought crazily) before the bat was flapping away once more, gaining altitude for another attack.

Nick scrambled away, tugging Hopps after him. Her claws were digging into his upper arm, almost hard enough to draw blood, but he hardly noticed.

"Left!" She shrieked suddenly and slammed Nick in that direction. A moment later something velvety and soft slapped him hard in the back of the head, sending him tumbling away. Hopps lost her grip on him and for a terrible moment Nick was entirely unsure of where she was. Then he could hear her getting up and running, could see a faint flash of white streaking along the edge of the room. She was keeping to the walls, he could see. Smart.

Where the bat was Nick did not know, but he could hear the reverberations of wingbeats thrumming through the air, muddling the sounds that lay underneath. He stayed very still for a moment, trying to pinpoint the bat's location, then gave up.

The bat was stronger and more mobile than him, it had better hearing and sharper claws. He would need to find some way to negate all of that if he wanted to leave this place alive.

Keeping low, he ran for the edge of the room, where he had last seen Hopps, a dreadful whoosh of folding wings and exponentially increasing momentum following almost immediately.

Zagging off to the left he dove to the ground, unable to keep a gasp of pain from escaping him as the wounds in his back reopened. The bat seared low overhead, with a growl of frustration, then was gone once more. The wingbeats ceased abruptly, Nick stared cautiously up into the gloom of the ceiling but could see nothing.

He made his way to the side of the room and put one paw up against the glass, panting for breath. He was shaking, the darkness pressing in on all sides, the scent of the mayor's flower garden now seemed to be that of a funeral bouquet.

He thought about calling for Hopps but decided against it. That would just bring the bat down on top of him. If the bat couldn't see him already…

Fumbling along the edge of the glass wall, paws trembling, ears kept acutely tuned to the silence around him, Nick finally felt the bump of a knob. He turned it, it opened with a click.

An echoing shriek sounded from what felt like right behind him and Nick yelped, rushing through the doorway, halfway through closing the door when some massive force battered it open with a squeal of protesting hinges and the brittle crack of splintering glass. Nick was thrown away, spinning into what seemed to be a bookcase. Just barely keeping his balance he hefted one of the tomes from its place on the shelf and threw it overhand at where he could hear the bat's claws clicking busily against marble.

It hit and the bat grunted in pain, hissing furiously at him. Nick scrambled backwards and a moment later heard something scrape along the bookcase, books tumbling to the floor in a cascade. He tried to make out the layout of the room he'd found himself in, then barked his shins against the edge of a desk and yelped. The bat lunged, papers whirling through the air as he unfolded his wings, and Nick scrambled beneath the desk, banging his head on the side hard enough that he saw stars.

A moment later the desk jolted hard to the side. Nick, gasping for breath, head and shins smarting, scrambled out from under the desk and then tripped over something spindly and metal. It felt an awful lot like a lamp.

A lamp! That meant light! A chance to see exactly where the bat was for once, rather than relying on shadowy shapes and blurs. Nick fumbled for the switch and flipped it, only to get a blue flash and a pop, then nothing. The bat laughed.

"I broke 'em all." He said, and Nick's heart skipped a beat. Then he whipped the useless lamp at the bat and scurried back under the desk, the bat pouncing to the floor where he had been a moment earlier, growling with frustration.

Forcing the nearest door open Nick slammed it shut behind him and promptly tripped over an armchair, spilling himself onto a soft carpet. Behind him the bat was scrabbling for the knob, the entire door shaking in its frame. Nick tried to survey this new room but it was even darker than the last one, all he knew for certain was that there was carpeting and some sort of big flat…

Oh. A bed. Nick started for it, running into the nightstand with a bang. Behind him the door burst open and Nick ducked down behind the bed. The bat stayed very still, head turned from side to side like a radar dish. Nick slowly slid open the top drawer of the nightstand. Did Mayor Holt keep some sort of weapon in here? Nick knew that the mayor was big on personal self defense items. The bat froze at the sound of the drawer opening, then was lunging once more, wings snapping open in a great jagged curtain of pure black. Nick snatched the first thing he could find, then dove to the floor, nose buried in the carpet. The bat whizzed overhead, shredding a great line down the side of the mayor's bed, and smashed the nightstand to kindling. Clawing his way around the side of the bed, Nick fumbled at the item in his paws. It wasn't a stun-baton or a stun-gun. It wasn't even a knife or a letter opener. It seemed that he'd picked up a night reader, of the type that clipped onto the covers of books, so that anyone reading in bed could do so without turning the rest of their lights on.

For a moment Nick was blisteringly upset, then the reality of what he'd acquired sunk in. A light. And a bright one too if the commercials were at all accurate. The bat disentangled himself from the ruined night stand and hopped onto the bed, staring at Nick balefully.

"I'll make it quick if you stop right now." He said, sleek, hissing voice making the offer even less appealing than it already was. Nick said nothing, just flicked the night reader on. The bat blinked and flinched back, folding a wing over his eyes with a pained grimace. Nick ran for the nearest door as the bat swiped blindly at him.

"Forgot this one!" He shouted, and slammed the door behind him. A moment later the bat hit, rattling the frame and throwing Nick forward onto his knees. Nick scrambled away, looking around the new room he found himself in. Some sort of den, with a television and a computer, both with shattered screens. There was a pool table as well, all of the sticks having been snapped to kindling, the balls scattered randomly across the table.

The bat opened the door, Nick whipped a pool ball at him, starring the frosted glass wall next to the doorway, forcing the bat to take a hurried step back. Scooping up another pool ball Nick ran for the next room, took a single step onto cool tile and promptly slipped on something slick and gelatinous.

He hit the floor hard, night reader and makeshift weapon skittering away. Scrambling to pick himself up he froze, heart rising into his throat. The night reader had landed on its side and was blazing a slice of light into the pitch blackness of what Nick could only assume was a bathroom. Nick stared, eyes following that light to where his paws were planted firmly in a smear of crimson. He wrenched them back, terror pulsing within him, as he realized that he wasn't alone in the room.

Just out of the light, but all too visible, were a pair of indistinct forms, lying half in, half out of a shattered porcelain bathtub. Nick groaned, and forced himself up, scooping up the night reader. Behind him the doorknob began to turn. Nick turned to ran but slammed into the open door of a cabinet beneath the bathroom sink. The impact almost knocked the wind out of him and he staggered, groping for the next door, the night reader tumbling from his paws. The bat was rushing in now, skittering over the same blood that Nick had slipped on, the bathroom too small and enclosed for him to unfold his wings.

"Got Judy too." The bat hissed, then Nick slammed the door in his face and backed away, trembling from head to toe.

"Liar!" He shouted, then turned and forced himself to run. He was in a kitchen now, similarly vandalized, all light emitting items ruined. Nick came to a skidding halt behind the kitchen counter, listening carefully for the bat, who was just now opening the bathroom door. A moment later something clattered down, a few feet from Nick. He jumped, unsure of what the item was for a few moments. Then he recognized the spindly, weird shape of the night reader, its light broken now.

"She kicked and scratched," the bat said from his place by the bathroom door, "but she didn't scream. Not once. Brave little bunny she was…" Nick gritted his teeth, feeling ill. The bat was lying, he told himself. He had to be.

Peeking cautiously around the edge of the counter Nick could see the bat stretching his wings out, just a vague blur in the darkness, but he was starting to get used to seeing things this way. Moving carefully, he made his way over to where he could see the sink. Everything was set low, built specifically for an otter. Being Mayor had perks, it seemed.

Reaching up, a careful eye kept on the bat, Nick flicked a switch and with a horrible grating grind the food processor kicked on. The bat hissed, teeth bared, and Nick lunged back around the kitchen counter, looping around the bat as he fumbled to stop the food processor.

"Not so fun when you can't hear, huh?" Nick muttered under his breath, and stole back to the bathroom. A moment later the food processor's grate and growl cut off and Nick could hear the bat's angry breathing, harsh and arrhythmic.

"I think I'll mail her ears to her parents." The bat said contemplatively, and then was gone, into the next room, away from Nick. Nick waited for a long moment, in the blood stinking charnel house that had once been a bathroom, then made his way back to the kitchen, keeping low and quiet, still shivering with mingled terror and rage.

The bat was lying. He told himself again. Hopps wasn't dead. She couldn't be. But even as he thought that he realized that he hadn't seen or heard anything from Hopps since they'd first been separated.

He shut his eyes, forcing himself to breathe evenly. He couldn't panic. Not now. Not when he'd lost the bat for the first time. If he panicked then it would be over, the bat would kill him and go on to destroy the city.

For the first time Nick wondered if Mayor Holt was even still alive. Shutting his eyes, he padded carefully over the blood and back into the ruins of the mayor's den. He needed a weapon, something to fight back with.

Staying low, he moved back over to the pool table and picked up one of the broken sticks. The bat had only snapped the tip off of this one, leaving behind a jagged edge of broken wood. Nick nodded to himself and made the trip back through the bathroom, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen. He could hear the bat moving around outside, in the pavilion. For a terrible moment he was sure that the bat had heard him, but instead he veered away and a moment later Nick heard him entering a room on the other side of the pavilion. Breathing a sigh of relief, he made his way over to the kitchen, wondering what he could do next.

Part of him insisted that he go down the elevator and get Hubble, but even as he thought of that he winced. The bunny had effectively blown him and Hopps off when they had reported the first signs of trouble, Nick had the feeling that Hubble wouldn't exactly be up to helping him if he were to make it back down to the ground floor.

And besides, there was Hopps. He needed to find her, wherever she was. Together they'd stand a much greater chance than if they were separated. If she was even still alive.

Nick squeezed his eyes shut until the ugly thoughts left his mind. If he was going to be able to move around and search the top floor for Hopps then he'd need another distraction. Like the food processor, but something that the bat wouldn't be able to turn off.

Nick opened up the cabinet under the kitchen sink, squinting at the contents. He could just barely make out labels in the darkness, even with his night vision, but he could smell the contents.

Fumbling through cans and bottles, he set them out on the floor and looked over them, ever mindful of where the bat might be. There was bleach, drain cleaner, garbage bags, several types of tropical smelling window and counter cleaner…even a can of something acrid that smelled to Nick like insecticide.

It was this last can that gave Nick an idea. He picked it up and moved carefully over to the oven, turning the setting to Bake. The lights inside did not flick on, evidently the bat had been to work in here as well. But when he stuck his paw in, Nick did feel a very welcoming surge of warm air. He set the can of bug spray on the oven rack and retreated, replacing the cleaners and shutting the cabinet door very carefully. His heart was racing as he passed into the next room, pool cue in hand, paws shaking.

From here he couldn't even hear the slight hum of the oven, which meant that neither could the bat. Outside he heard claws clicking on marble and froze, shrinking down to hide behind a chair. This new room seemed to be Holt's meeting room, a large oval table dominating the place.

The bat opened the door linking the meeting room to the pavilion and Nick just barely managed to stifle a gasp. Unfolding his wings, the bat leapt up onto the table and glared over the room, standing for a long moment, statuesque, listening for the slightest noise.

"I'm beginning to scatter her throughout each room," the bat said mildly, a hint of aggravation in his voice, "think of it as a scavenger hunt. I'd be willing to give you her paws if you show yourself." Nick, shaking with fury and terror and a hundred different emotions all too complex to describe, bit down on his wrist to keep from shrieking. The bat stood silently for another small eternity, claws scraping divots into the polished wood of the table.

Then, mercifully, the oven's fans kicked on in the next room, a reverberating hum that carried through the wall. The bat cocked his head and took a step in the direction of the kitchen before pausing.

"I know what that is," he said with a relieved laugh, "that's a distraction. You're wanting me to go into the kitchen so that you can-" The bat never got to finish his sentence. The next moment there was a loud pop and then a tremendous bang that shot streaks of orange and yellow light across the entire top floor. The bat recoiled, Nick leapt up from his place behind the chair and stabbed the splintered end of his pool cue into the bat's inner thigh.

The bat shrieked, tumbling backwards, ripping the cue from Nick's paws. He could smell smoke now, hear glass breaking and flames crackling. The bug spray had detonated in spectacular fashion, Nick was sure that if he stepped foot in the kitchen then the oven would be a flaming ruin.

"You're right," Nick snarled as he clambered up onto the table and kicked a chair over onto the wounded bat, knocking him back to the floor, "it _was_ a distraction!" Then he leapt down on top of the chair he'd pushed onto the bat. Something snapped underneath him and the bat let out a weak mewl of pain, his breath entirely gone. He'd ripped the pool cue from his wounded thigh and Nick picked it up, paws slick with sweat.

"Stop!" The bat screamed, panicking now, trying to get up. Nick brought the pool cue down on the bat's head. The bat moaned pitiably, blood running freely from a gash between his ears.

"Where's Judy?!" Nick demanded, snarling now, fur bristling. For a bizarre moment he wondered if he was going savage, if this was what it felt like to lose control. Then the fire system kicked on with a hiss and he was doused in frigid water. In an instant everything snapped back to cold, clear reality. He stood, atop the wounded, semi-conscious bat, pool cue held loosely in his paws, blood mingling with water on the floor. The wounds on his back had bled through their bandages, he realized dully, he could feel warmth trickling down his tail.

"Please…" The bat whimpered from the ground, "don't…don't…" Nick felt dizzy and weak suddenly, the adrenaline of the chase draining away. For a long moment he stood still, then he more or less fell into a sitting position, still firmly atop the bat, who was sniffling through tears of pain and terror.

"No so tough now." Nick muttered. The bat shut his eyes.

"I didn't kill her," he said, voice wheedling and pathetic, "I swear. It was just to scare you…I swear." Nick's ears perked up, but a core of distrust remained. He pressed down on the bat again, eliciting a shriek of pain. He seemed to have broken the bat's left wing.

"Then what happened, where is she?" Over the rush of water Nick just barely heard the door behind him click as it swung shut. He whirled around.

"Judy?" He asked, voice bright with relief, but then froze, the pool cue dropping from one nerveless paw.

"You've made quite a mess of my afternoon Mr. Wilde." Mayor Peter Holt said with mild reproach, the barrel of the silenced pistol he was holding looking as large and foreboding as a train tunnel.

"You…" Nick said. Holt's expression didn't change.

"Yes," he said simply, "me."


	21. Chapter 21

For a long moment the three of them were at an impasse, then Nick managed to laugh, a shrill, semi-hysterical noise.

"Thank God." He said at last. He never would have thought he'd be genuinely grateful to see Holt, but, given the surprises of the past few days, somehow this new development didn't seem too shocking. Holt glanced down from Nick, to where the bat was pinned beneath the fallen chair.

"I wasn't expecting this," Holt said, "but it's fixable." Fishing into the pocket of his sodden suit Holt pulled out a little black box that looked somewhat like a television remote. In the dying light of the fire in the kitchen Nick could see the mayor press a button. Then the shutters covering the windows began to slide open and Nick felt a sick ball of shock begin to gather in the pit of his stomach.

He stared. Holt smiled humorlessly.

"You're standing on a friend of mine," he said lightly, "get off." Nick couldn't move, he was frozen with shock, absolutely stunned. No way this was happening. No way that Peter Holt, the first _predator_ mayor of Zootopia was behind this whole thing.

It made no sense!

Holt cocked his head and fired a shot, the bullet snapping just above Nick's head. He scrambled backwards, stepping off of the bat before freezing as Holt caught him in the crosshairs once more.

"But you're a _predator!"_ Nick cried, confused and hurt and utterly bewildered. Above them the water from the sprinklers began to taper off, leaving the floor silent but for the occasional drip and plink of water. Holt gave Nick a strange, indecipherable look, and then stepped forward, extending a paw to the bat.

"Tricky fox…" The bat muttered as Holt pulled him to his feet. He wove unsteadily for a moment, left wing hanging crooked and useless, face wreathed in blood, then he snarled and slashed out with his good wing.

Nick was thrown into the wall, the side of his face suddenly numb and throbbing. He tried to get back up but the bat was looming over him, teeth bared, blood dripping down from the gash on his forehead. There was a mad sort of hatred in the bat's eyes, something feral that could be sated by nothing less than murder.

"Balthazar," Holt warned, and suddenly the mayor was there, herding the bat away from Nick, "not yet…" Nick sat weakly up, head ringing like a bell, back feeling like someone had just ground powdered glass into his wounds. He shivered, still stunned with disbelief.

"You know him…" Nick said faintly, and Holt nodded patiently, like a schoolmaster coaching a difficult but promising student through a tough problem.

"Not only that," the mayor said, "I helped him reach his potential." The affection in Holt's voice made Nick feel ill. He shut his eyes, trying to clear his mind, to quiet the ever loudening buzz of panic forming within him.

"Where's Hopps?" He asked, forcing back the dozens (no…hundreds) of questions that he wanted badly to ask the mayor. A good portion of them involved some sort of screaming, to display an agony and outrage that Nick didn't think that he could put into words.

"Judy?" Holt asked, brushing water from the shoulder of his suit, "she's just fine. Tied up and doubtlessly saturated, but unharmed." Nick took a long, deep breath. He was hanging by a thread, he realized with sudden, uncomfortable clarity, only a few moments away from full blown panic.

 _Judy,_ his mind told him, _Holt called her Judy…he's trying to get to you._ And it was working.

"Where is she?" He asked, trying and failing to keep his voice from shaking. He stood fully up, bracing himself against the frosted glass wall. In the light he could see just how much of a mess the bat (Balthazar, the mayor had called him) had made of the place. What was the purpose of it all?

"Judy," Holt said, drawing Hopps' name out just a little too long for Nick's comfort, "is across the way from us. Behind the elevator shaft. She actually ran into me, thought that she was rescuing me, poor dear…" He chuckled, but there was no humor in his tone. Holt sounded vaguely unhappy, contemplating the situation even as he taunted his newest captive.

"She had a radio," the bat said, glaring malevolently down at Nick, "did you take it from her?" Holt nodded distractedly.

"Of course. But it's of no concern to us." The bat seemed satisfied with that answer and curled one lip slightly at Nick, revealing sharp teeth. Nick was slightly disappointed to see that he hadn't broken a single one of the bat's pearly whites.

"Take me to her." Nick said, trying to sound solid and tough. Holt stepped back and opened the door leading to the main pavilion.

"Balthazar," he said, "escort Mr. Wilde if you'd be so kind…" Balthazar grabbed Nick by the scruff of his neck and more or less threw him out into the pavilion, limping after him, leaving a trail of scattered blood droplets behind him. Holt watched this with some mild interest.

"You've made an enemy out of Balthazar Mr. Wilde, he said, shutting the door to the meeting room behind him, "I believe he started disliking you when you kicked him in the chin back in the Rainforest District." Nick had nothing to say to that. He picked himself up and limped grimly along, body singing with pain, mind howling with mingled fear and rage.

"What about you?" Nick asked, "am I your enemy?" Holt nodded without hesitation.

"Of course you are Mr. Wilde. I wouldn't think of you as anything less." A moment later the bat shoved Nick through a half open door, sending him tumbling headlong over waterlogged carpeting.

The first thing Nick saw was Hopps, tied tightly to a chair with duct tape. One of her eyes was beginning to swell shut. Nick turned, on all fours, snarling.

"You hit her?!" He asked, outraged, and launched himself at Holt. Balthazar the bat slammed him into the doorframe before he even got close, the wind leaving Nick's lungs in a great, agonizing whoosh. He sank to the floor, sobbing for breath. Hopps strained against her bindings.

"Don't hurt him!" She cried, "don't…!" Balthazar cracked her hard across the face and a moment later Holt was storming in, face a rictus of sudden rage.

"Don't you _dare,"_ he snarled, claws digging into Balthazar's injured wing, the bat cried out, "that was _needless._ You should apologize to Lieutenant Hopps, right now." Balthazar stared, and for the first time Nick saw real fear in the bat's eyes. Even when he'd had the monster on the ground in the meeting room the pleas for mercy had been an act, a ploy. There had been no real regret in the bat's actions, just an attempt to get Nick to let him back up. But this…Balthazar looked terrified.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly. Holt's grip did not loosen.

"Her name." He said, lip still curled, the gun aiming disconcertingly close to the bat's abdomen.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant Hopps." Balthazar whimpered, and Holt let him go, turning back around, facing Hopps and Nick. Nick forced himself to breathe, coughing as his lungs protested the effort. Hopps stared over at him, eyes bright with mingled fear and sympathy.

"We'll get out of this." She said, but even optimism of her caliber couldn't make those words sound genuine. Nick smiled nonetheless.

"So," Holt said after a moment of silence had passed, "you're wondering why I would do any of this, right?" Nick nodded slowly.

"Gotta admit," he said, adjusting his position very slightly, mindful of the pistol aimed squarely at him, "you don't seem like the super villain type." A flicker of a smile passed over Holt's face.

"A villain," he said, "I suppose that's what you _would_ think of me as. But please, bear with me for a moment. Look out that window over there and tell me what you see, Judy, you too." Nick looked to the far side of the room, where Sahara Square fell away into the verdant green of the Rainforest District. A little further on, almost out of sight, Nick could see the brownish blur of the Docks.

"Zootopia." Hopps said, Nick nodded. He couldn't see anything too special about what Holt was asking them to describe.

"Yes," the otter said, "Zootopia. A metropolis for mammals of all kinds, a city built upon the idea that predators and prey can get along and coexist as equals. A broken city." His tone darkened as he spoke these last words. For the first time Nick realized that the mayor was still wearing his collar, the black box and its green light just barely visible beyond the high collar of his suit.

"When I first took office I meant well," Holt said after a long moment of silence had passed, "on my second day I even had the honor of presenting a young rabbit her Lieutenant's stripes." He glanced over to Hopps, who avoided his gaze. Nick blinked, wondering just what was going through Hopps' mind as the mayor spoke.

"Are you seriously gonna give us the whole 'big bad world corrupted me' spiel?" Nick asked, voice bitter with sarcasm, "because that's not very original." Holt turned sharply, fixing Nick with a withering glare. Balthazar started forward, cradling his broken wing, but Holt stopped him with a little gesture.

"This city is broken," Holt said at last, "I knew that when I was elected, but I thought that I could fix it. I honestly believed that generations of hatred and division could be healed through words and speeches and legislation. But the moment the city started discussing me, I realized that I was nothing more than an _excuse_ for a lot of prey to tell themselves that _of course_ they're not prejudiced, they voted for an otter after all…" Holt stopped and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Nick was honestly surprised that the otter hadn't been shocked yet.

"You-" Nick began but Holt just aimed the pistol more insistently, forcing him to be silent.

"And not only that, but whole swathes of the predator community as well, rolling their eyes sanctimoniously at me and calling me a sellout because I wasn't able to magic away these _collars._ Do you know how badly I wanted to go out there on day one and announce my intentions to ban the collar forever? To pass anti-discrimination acts? I dreamt of doing that, but couldn't. Because if you dare fight for equality then you become a radical, some sort of crazy eyed fringe dweller…and I couldn't do that. Not if I wanted to get anything else passed." Holt fell silent for a long moment, staring down at the soaked carpet.

"But…" Hopps began, visibly confused, "You're making things _worse._ How is that helping?" Holt shook his head slowly.

"I did this because Zootopia is broken," Holt said simply, "and quite frankly, it doesn't deserve to survive in its current form." Hopps' mouth dropped open in shock, Nick gritted his teeth. Holt's words sounded apocalyptic, but also horribly hopeless. Like the otter had already shut out the mere idea of other options. This plan he had launched was all that remained now.

"You're still panicking the city _._ What makes you think that that'll somehow make things better?" Nick demanded, voice crackling with anger. He felt slightly calmer now, if only because the godawful terror within him was slowly tempering into outrage as Holt slowly detailed what he was doing.

"Say that a snowflake settles onto a fragile mountain slope and triggers an avalanche," Holt said, "is that snowflake really responsible for every bit of hidden kinetic potential unleashed by its fall?" Nick stared, bewildered.

"Just tell us your plan," Hopps said, straining against her bindings but getting approximately nowhere in terms of breaking them, "we're kinda the textbook definition of a captive audience." Holt smiled gently at Hopps, his gaze fond and gentle.

"I was contemplating something like this for a while," he said, "but I finally decided to set it all into action after I met Balthazar. He's a fruit bat, see? A prey animal. But you wouldn't know that just by looking at him. He's very rare, I don't think that there are any other fruit bats in the entirety of Zootopia…" Holt contemplated his partner in crime for a moment before continuing, "but, I came upon him while out on business in Tundra Town. He told me about being mistaken for a predator and all of the pain and fear it had caused him. He asked me why Zootopia was so cruel, and I had no real answer. He asked me if it would ever get better and for some reason I said 'no'. The next day I started to plan in earnest."

"At first I thought that I'd start small, with city statistics concerning predator crime rates. They happened to be rising at the time so I leaked this information to ZNN and they talked about it plenty, but there was no panic. Prey already assumed that predators were criminals, so this wasn't news to them. So next I decided that I would have to manufacture my own crime. I acquired my silenced pistols and…and this is where you come into the story Mr. Wilde, listen up." Nick glared sullenly at Holt, the mayor hardly seemed to notice, he was so absorbed in his own story.

"Balthazar heard whispers of a place where predators had their collars removed for a fee. I considered the implications of this and abandoned my earlier plan, the shootings. You remember those Judy?" Hopps stared, horrified by how blasé he was.

"A half dozen people were injured." She said stiffly.

"And hardly anybody panicked over those," Holt sighed with a shrug, "Balthazar did too good a job of hiding himself, nobody knew anything about the shooter or _why_ he was even shooting folks. So I moved onward to attacking the predator park, what was it called Mr. Wilde?" Nick remained silent for a long moment.

"Wild Times." He said at last, Holt nodded.

"Exactly. I attacked Wild Times and sent dozens of predators fleeing into the night, I framed Mr. Wilde for murder. And that was supposed to be the end of that plan, me sitting back and issuing concerned statements about the hordes of collarless predators roaming the city. I could already imagine all of the prey out there clutching their pearls…and then you," Holt jabbed the gun at Nick, "started interfering. I had such a lovely trial planned for you, but you had other ideas. And your chase across the city, Judy's apparent death…oh it was artwork, a masterpiece compared to what vague scribbles I was able to produce. I'm truly in debt to you Mr. Wilde, for _you_ managed to spark the exact sort of panic I was hoping and praying for all along." Nick stared, heart thudding away in his chest.

"But…" Nick started but Holt spoke over him.

"And yes, I did interfere here and there. I leaked ZPD documents, I sent Balthazar after you, hoping to cut you and Judy apart so that when her body was discovered then you would look even more bloodthirsty and vicious…but the vast majority of what happened, I had no involvement in whatsoever. I didn't direct ZNN to react how they did, I was positively pleasant during this whole crisis, calling for understanding and tolerance that I _knew_ wasn't going to happen."

"What's the endgame then?" Hopps asked, voice dull with horror and shock. Holt raised an eyebrow.

"You still haven't figured it out? I want predators removed entirely from Zootopia. I want us to have our own homeland, our own city where _we_ can figure out what's best for us without being oppressed by this tyranny of the majority that the prey constitute. I want a place where there are no collars and everyone is equal. Is that such a sin?" There was silence for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"What happened to you?" Hopps asked, "when you pinned those stripes on me, I thought you were really nice…was _this_ hiding behind your face the entire time you were telling me what a good officer I was?" Holt looked taken aback, caught completely off guard for the first time.

"Judy…" He said, sounding lost and hesitant for a moment, then whatever vulnerability that Hopps' words had opened up clicked shut and he sighed, "I've always admired you. Liked you even. Maybe in a different world, a more _just_ world, we would have been friends." Hopps looked pointedly away, Holt shook his head slightly, turning to Nick.

"So you're gonna kill thousands, and cast countless others out of the city just 'cause you couldn't fix everyone's problems?" Nick asked, tone ugly, words as cruel as he could make them. Holt narrowed his eyes slightly.

"You more than _anyone_ should know that Zootopia is a lost cause," he hissed, "but I take comfort in your delusion, because you'll end today as the most hated mammal in the world." Nick blinked.

"You mean I'm not already?" He asked, alarmed by the look of grim satisfaction of Holt's face.

"I have a few more tricks up my sleeve." Holt said mildly, and Hopps scowled fiercely at him.

"We know them already," she said, "you want to blow up Animalia. That's your ace in the hole." Holt turned slowly around, blinking, slightly confused.

"Animalia?" He asked uncertainly, "wherever did you get that idea?" Hopps blinked, confused. Nick felt his heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest. If Holt wasn't going to attack Animalia, then where?

"You know," Nick said, "for your end game, where you convince everyone that kicking the predators out is a good idea. What better way to scare the city than blowing up a concert?" Holt, nonplussed, glanced over to Balthazar. The bat was stony faced.

"I would never," Holt said, appalled by the suggestion, "I want to _save_ predators, not get us all killed." It was a strange thing to see Holt, master of a great big conspiracy, absolutely dumbfounded. Stranger still to see Balthazar comparatively composed, almost like he'd been expecting the whole thing.

"You've already killed plenty of people," Hopps said, voice colored with disgust, "now stop bluffing and tell us your plan." But Holt kept shaking his head.

"You're sitting in the middle of my plan," he said at last, "where Mr. Wilde 'assassinates' me. _That's_ my finale, not some stupid attack on a concert…do you have any idea the sort of reaction that the deaths of _that_ many mammals would get? The Docks would be burnt to the ground, you'd have prey mobs exterminating predators in the street. And I have no doubt that a pretty healthy portion of the ZPD would join in. That's exactly what I'm fighting to _prevent."_

Outside the elevator dinged and Nick jumped at the sound. Hopps sat straight up in her seat and Holt tensed.

"Hubble?" He asked, and Nick felt his eyes widen, almost involuntarily.

"Yes?" Came Hubble's voice, slightly muffled but instantly recognizable.

"Are you kidding me?" Nick asked out loud and the mayor smiled grimly at him.

"I suppose that today could be themed as Trust Issues Thursday," Holt said, and then chuckled at his own joke. Nick found it in his heart to hate him just a little bit more.

"Hubble?!" Hopps asked, voice shrill with outrage, "you're _working_ with him?" Hubble appeared in the doorway, just a few feet from Nick, still perfectly groomed and attired. He glanced around the room, eyes settling on the battered bat.

"Who did that to you?" He asked. Balthazar flicked a sullen finger at Nick. Hubble regarded him with cold, blank eyes for a terrifying moment. Nick could see now that there was no understand or even the concept of warmth or empathy in the rabbit's gaze, he might as well have been staring into a pair of glossy volcanic stones.

"A fighter," Hubble said mildly, "perhaps I underestimated you." Holt looked relieved to see Hubble, his posture relaxing slightly.

"Good to see you," Holt said with a small smile, "I think it's about time we finished up here." Hopps still looked stunned, shaking with horror.

"How…how do you fit into this?" She asked, voice shaky. Hubble ignored her question.

"There's a bit of a mess downstairs," he said to Holt, "but I'm sure that everyone will be alright when they wake up." Nick winced at this.

"What did you do to Honey?" He asked, fearful. He didn't quite dare work up anger around Hubble.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He flashed Nick a smile, cold and sharp as the edge of a razor, and Nick lunged, lip curling into a snarl. With shocking quickness Hubble turned and kicked Nick hard in the chest, slamming him back against the wall. Balthazar had started forward but Hubble shook his head slightly and the bat stopped in his tracks.

"You…you…" Nick muttered. Hubble stared at him, face blank, eyes calculating.

"A fighter," the rabbit repeated, "to the end." Nick clutched his chest, gasping for breath. Hopps was struggling against her bindings, but to no avail.

"So," Holt said with undisguised eagerness, "how about we get started on the whole coverup, okay?" Hubble nodded slightly.

"So, the timeline goes that Mr. Wilde, with the help of his cheetah friend downstairs, broke into your residence. He closed the shutters, in order to give himself an advantage in the dark, and then proceeded to hunt and kill you, but not before being mortally injured himself, right?" Hubble asked, reeling off the list of events with fantastic precision. Hopps yanked at her bindings once more, Hubble glanced over to her.

"How did you get involved?" She asked furiously, "why'd you betray us?"

"Betray you…" he said with a smirk, "I'd already betrayed you long before we ever met, there was never any sort of trust in our relationship."

"But you work for Koslov," Nick said, "why are you throwing in with _him?"_ Hubble ignored Nick completely, looking over the room once more.

"You know," he said at last, "your fennec friend has a bug in his collar. I've been listening to your conversations for the past week now, passing bits and pieces along to Mr. Holt. It's been interesting in determining just how you interact, what you believe…where you're going." Nick took a deep breath, trying not to give Hubble the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. That was a deeply terrifying revelation that Hubble had just laid on him, with worrying implications.

"So that's how you knew we were coming." Hopps said, sounding defeated. Hubble nodded.

"Exactly." Holt seemed to be getting antsy now, shifting his weight from one paw to the other.

"Could we hurry this up?" He asked, "Animalia starts in an hour and I'd like to have this done before people notice that I'm missing." Hubble glanced back at Holt with his usual expressionless gaze and nodded briskly.

"Of course."

"How did you get involved?" Hopps asked again, gaze steely, voice insistent. Hubble glanced over to her this time.

"I acquired Mr. Holt's pistols for him," he said with quiet pride, "and kept his identity secret from Koslov." Hubble looked over to Nick with a slight smile. "Koslov is lovely, but he has things that I want. If predators were to be removed from Zootopia then I would stand to benefit, hence my involvement." There was no bigotry in Hubble's decision to help Holt, Nick realized, only cold realpolitik type calculations. And that scared him far worse than Holt ever had.

"What's gonna happen with Holt?" Nick asked. Hubble turned, ignoring him once more.

"I'm going elsewhere," Holt said, "to help prepare the ground for our homeland." Hubble smiled to himself, something resembling real amusement flashing over his face. Holt's gun had dropped down to his side Nick noted, the mayor had relaxed enough to drop his guard.

"It's too bad you wont see Animalia go up," Hubble said, slipping his paws into his pocket, facing Holt, "I've always hated that stadium." Holt's face crumpled in confusion.

"What…?" He asked, then gasped, realization hitting him. For an instant he stood still, electrified, then Balthazar slipped his good wing around Holt's throat and wrenched him savagely to the side. Even from the other side of the room Nick could hear the mayor's neck break. Hopps stared in silent horror, Hubble turned slowly around.

"You actually got that part right," he said calmly as Balthazar scooped up Holt's silenced pistol, letting the mayor's corpse hit the floor with a leaden thump, "somebody _is_ going to attack Animalia. Only, it wasn't ever going to be Holt. That's where you went wrong." Hubble held out a paw and Balthazar handed him the silenced pistol. Nick stood slowly up.

"So," he said, "how are you gonna do it?" Hubble considered this for a moment, then raised his eyebrows.

"Do you know what's above us?" He asked. Hopps glared angrily at him.

"A helicopter pad." She said, voice low with horrified realization. Hubble nodded patiently.

"Complete with one lovely black private helicopter belonging to the late Mr. Holt. And fifty pounds of plastic explosives." He smiled gently at the horror enveloping his captive's faces.

"Who's gonna pilot it then?" Nick asked, voice shrill and panicked, "because you never struck me as the kamikaze type…"

"In the official version, you," Hubble said, pointing the barrel of the pistol over to Nick, "you'll crash it into the middle of a packed stadium, killing hundreds…and that's before we take into account the stampedes and trampling that'll occur as mammals struggle to escape from a burning stadium. I expect thousands to die, many more to be horribly injured. And what'll the survivors emerge from the wreckage to see but a message from the late, great Nicholas Wilde. I have enough audio from you, enough words and phrases and syntax to have cobbled together a pretty simple threat. You'll announce that you were responsible for the attack, and then this city will tear itself apart. Nobody will care that you'd never actually carry out anything like this. According to ZNN this is perfectly in character for you, and what's more? There might be others just like you, willing to follow in your footsteps." Nick realized that he was shaking, his legs weakening alarmingly under him.

"Why?!" Hopps demanded, voice a sorrowful, horrified shriek. Hubble gave Hopps a contemptuous look.

"Because I happen to benefit from it." He said coldly, and shot her in the chest.


	22. Chapter 22

The violence of the shot was extraordinary, clashing with the small, sedate _snap_ that the pistol produced when Hubble fired. A puff of water vapor sprayed from the point of impact on Hopps' chest, her head and shoulders pitched forward even as the rest of her lurched back. For a moment it looked like she'd just taken a hard hit from an invisible fist, then her chair tipped backward and she hit the ground with a crunch of splintering wood.

Nick cried out, a strangled, wordless noise, and lunged forward at Hubble, who side-stepped neatly. The rabbit was fast, he made dodging look easy. Then Balthazar slammed Nick into a desk on the other side of the room. For a moment his vision dissolved entirely into stars, then he was lying flat on the sodden carpet, gasping for breath. Balthazar limped over to him, grimacing down.

"She's wearing a vest Mr. Wilde," Hubble sighed, as though this fixed everything, "my shot did not kill her." Nick picked himself slowly up, aware of a disconcerting numbness beginning to set in over his wounds. Much like when Balthazar had first slashed him open in the Rainforest District he was beginning to slide into shock.

One of the drawers in the desk had been jarred slightly open by Nick's impact and for a moment Nick's eyes held on it. He could see a flash of gold within, the sharp edge of a blade. It looked very similar to the gilt letter opener that he had used to cut his friends loose back at Koslov's secret subterranean dungeon.

"I swear to God if you hurt her…" He started but Hubble just gave him a disinterested look.

"I've already hurt her and all you did was jump at me. You're not a threatening person Mr. Wilde, even if some prey do flinch away at the sight of your teeth." Hubble said this last part with an ugly contempt that made Nick hate him even more.

"Whatever happened to me being a fighter?" He asked, leaning against the desk, a careful eye kept on Balthazar, who was tensed, ready to spring at the slightest sign of trouble. On the floor Nick could see Hopps stirring weakly, her eyes wide, taking shallow breaths. She had been hurt, Nick could tell, but she was still alive. And that was all that mattered. He had to figure out how to get them out of this room, away from Hubble and Balthazar.

"You're nothing if not that," Hubble said, toeing at Hopps before stepping away, bored with her, "it takes a special and very lucky sort of person to evade the ZPD as long as you did. But that still doesn't make you frightening or even vaguely scary. Which is why I'm astonished that ZNN has managed to vilify you as effectively as they have." He smiled humorlessly and turned back around, tucking the pistol into his jacket.

Nick watched as Hubble hauled Hopps' splintered chair upright, the semi-conscious bunny cringing away from his touch, grimacing at him as best she could.

"Judy," Nick said, "talk to me, are you alright?" Hopps raised her head weakly at the sound of Nick's voice.

"…Ribs are…definitely broken," she managed to say, then coughed weakly, wincing, "…but I've been worse…" Nick doubted that but was cheered by the tough front Hopps was putting on. She wasn't quitting, wasn't even thinking about giving in to Hubble.

"At least you're not in Balthazar's shoes," Nick said, giving the bat a contemptuous glance, "he got beaten down by nonthreatening old me." Balthazar bristled, Nick edged just a little closer to the half open drawer.

"Watch it _fox."_ The bat snarled, teeth pink with blood. Nick struggled not to flinch away.

"Did you know that some kinds of smooth nosed bats are known as flying foxes?" Nick asked, needling Balthazar more insistently now. Hubble watched this, eyes narrowing.

"What do you think you're doing Mr. Wilde?" He asked, cocking his head slightly. Nick didn't even look over to the rabbit, instead keeping him in the corner of his vision, his attention focused on the wrathful bat.

"Sharing some knowledge with your murder buddy," Nick said innocently, voice surprisingly even for how frightened he was, "about bats and how they're just like us foxes. In fact batty, we might as well be brothers." Balthazar's anger boiled over and he lunged. Nick's paw dipped down into the drawer and he stabbed upwards, golden letter opener held in one paw. For a terrible moment he was sure that he was going to miss, then he jammed the blade into the bat's ribs and Balthazar shrieked, eyes wide with horror and pain. Nick hoped fervently that the bat would panic, but instead a fiery, all consuming rage snapped into his eyes and Nick felt claws dig into his shoulder, Balthazar snapping at him, sharp teeth clicking shut barely an inch from his nose.

Nick wrenched back and the letter opener pulled free with a grisly sucking noise. Balthazar stumbled forward but tripped over his own feet, sprawling to the carpet. Hubble's face had pulled into a grimace and Nick could see the pistol beginning to rise. He dove, and a half second later felt the hot wind of a bullet pass between the tips of his ears. Then he was scrambling up, knocking the silenced pistol aside with one shoulder, his free paw grabbing a handful of Hubble's suit front.

The rabbit raised the pistol to club him over the head and, almost in slow motion, Nick pinned his wrist to the wall with the letter opener. Hubble opened his mouth in a silent cry of agony, eyes going wide, then kicked Nick hard in the stomach, the pistol falling nervelessly from his wounded hand.

Nick tumbled backward, falling backwards over Balthazar, and slammed into the desk, stunning himself. A blurry moment passed, then reality swam back into clear focus. Reality had sharp, blood pinked teeth.

"I'm gonna kill you," Balthazar hissed, injured arm folded over the slash in his side, blood pulsing from the wound in a steady stream, "oh God am I gonna kill you…" His voice was almost a groan, and Nick felt the bat's claws wrap around his throat. He tried to reach up to knock them away but the bat was too close, his leverage too great. Nick kicked and tried to bite but his teeth snapped down on nothing but air.

The edges of his vision began to go dark, colorful spots bursting before his eyes like fireworks. He could see something moving in the background, weaving towards them. Hubble? Here to help his friend finish the job? Nick opened his mouth to say something, anything to let them know that they hadn't broken him.

 _Thunk._

For a strange moment Balthazar went entirely rigid, then fell slowly away, claws leaving Nick's throat. He gasped and gulped for breath, his vision returning from the static and spots that had consumed it. He stared up, eyes wide.

"Judy…?" And there she was, hunched over, one paw clasped over her chest, a one of the arms of her chair held loosely in the other. Staring behind her Nick could see Hubble working away at removing the letter opener, face set in a grimace of mingled pain and determination. He still hadn't made so much as a sound since being stabbed. That was deeply frightening.

"The chair broke…" She sank to her knees, hissing in pain, the chair arm dropping from nerveless fingers. Nick put an arm around her, then heard an ugly scraping noise, as the letter opener came free from the wall. Hubble took a staggering step forward, staring at Balthazar's limp form, the blood slimed letter opener dropping to the carpet.

"You've ruined my pilot." He said. There was no real emotion in the words, just a statement of fact. Nick tensed, eyes dropping to the fallen pistol on the carpet. Hubble wasn't looking there, his eyes, so cold and blank, still entirely focused on Nick and Hopps.

"Give up." Hopps managed, then slumped back against the desk, face contorted in pain. Hubble said nothing, just took a step towards the pistol. Nick lunged, and a half moment later Hubble followed.

His fingers scrabbled against the grip for a moment, then it slid away, Hubble slamming into his side a moment later. Nick clawed at the rabbit, tearing fabric with his claws. Hubble kicked out and knocked Nick away, sending him rolling across the room. He reached for the pistol and got hold of it for a moment before Nick pulled a drawer free from the desk and flung it at him.

The drawer caught Hubble in the center of the back and drove him back down, the pistol skittering free once more. The rabbit turned over, eyes wild and almost feral, but still he didn't make a sound, no so much as a single acknowledgement that he'd been hurt.

The pistol had come to a halt near the center of the room, and Nick reached it first, Hubble stamping down on his arms a moment later. Nick wrenched away and kicked Hubble's legs out from under him, a blurry wave of faintness crashing over him as he did so. His vision dissolved into static for an alarming moment and when it cleared he was somehow on his knees, pistol aimed ahead of him, Hubble standing just short of the doorway. The rabbit's nose was bleeding and his normally pristine white fur had been mussed. He took a small step backwards.

"Stop." Nick croaked, Hubble shook his head slightly.

"You'll have to kill me." Then he slipped around the side of the doorway and was gone. Nick got up, legs rubbery and heart hammering in his chest. He could feel blood trickling down his back, the ugly faint feeling threatening to return at any moment.

"You've got to catch him Nick," Hopps groaned from her place against the desk, "he's going for the helicopter…the explosives." Oh God. That was right. But still Nick hesitated, staring helplessly down at the wounded bunny.

"I will." He said, then turned and limped out of the room.

The marble pavilion was empty, and for the first time Nick noticed a circular wrought iron staircase leading to what appeared to be the roof. Hubble was about halfway up it and paused to stare down at Nick before grimacing and continuing his ascent. Nick aimed the pistol and fired, and…Hubble fell.

Icy shock constricted Nick's chest, a surreal sort of terror filling him. Had he just killed someone?

But before he could wonder for too long Hubble got back to his feet, blinking, looking shocked. His eyes found Nick's, then the bunny was ascending once more, slower now, one leg drawing behind him. When Nick got to the bottom of the circular flight of stairs he could see blood dripping from up above.

Nick took the stairs two at a time, head swimming, back burning, entire body shrieking for rest. He felt shivery and weak, wounds both old and new protesting with every move he made.

He tripped over the top stair and sprawled headlong over the pavement, the brightness and heat of the day overwhelming compared to the dim coolness of the mayor's residence. Through the glare he could see a single black helicopter sitting in the center of the pad, and a single white rabbit limping towards it. Nick ran after Hubble, pistol aimed, sobbing for breath.

"Stop!" He cried, and fired another shot, his paws shaking. A window on the helicopter shattered. Hubble stopped in his tracks and turned around, shoulders slumping slightly. He was leaning to one side, left pant leg soaked in crimson. Nick could see that he was panting, mouth slightly open, eyes wide with adrenaline and pain.

"There are fifty pounds of homemade explosives in the helicopter Mr. Wilde," he said, edging backwards as he spoke, hobbling awkwardly on his wounded leg, "I'd be careful of where I fired that thing if I were you." Nick took a step forward, then another, heart accelerated. He could almost feel the awful potential of the explosives from where he was standing.

"You cant bomb Animalia now," Nick said thickly, trying to keep his paws from shaking quite so badly, "you have no pilot…nobody to fly the helicopter for you." Hubble frowned slightly, wincing as he took another step on his injured leg. Nick found that he was avoiding stepping on Hubble's blood trail, as if the rabbit's blood was just as evil as him.

"The Palm shall have to do," Hubble said, slightly reluctant, "when the bombs go off then the great big leaves that surround us," he gestured broadly to the glass and metal and wire palm fronds that topped the hotel, "they'll tumble into the streets below. It wont be carnage on the scale of Animalia, but it'll get the job done." Nick aimed, Hubble regarded him, eyes still empty and blank. Doll's eyes.

"You cant get away with this." Nick said. Hubble cracked a smile, then turned, facing the helicopter.

"I'm going to arm the explosives now," he said calmly, "figure out what to do Mr. Wilde." Nick stepped closer, aiming squarely at Hubble's back. His paws were shaking, he felt dizzy and weak.

Could he really shoot an unarmed mammal in the back? The thought was repugnant, evil. But…

Hubble wasn't really unarmed. He was about to set the fuses on fifty pounds of explosives, about to ruthlessly murder hundreds of innocents, and spark actions that would claim the lives of countless others. Nick forced his paws to steady, his heart to stop knocking unsteadily in his chest. He thought of what he had said to Hopps, shut his eyes, and squeezed the trigger.


	23. Chapter 23

**This is the penultimate chapter. Next one is the finale.**

There was more blood than Nick thought possible, a great dark crimson ocean of the stuff. It stood out, shockingly bright against Hubble's white fur. The rabbit staggered, wounded leg folding under him. For a moment he swayed, like he just might be able to remain standing, balanced on one leg like a flamingo, then he tumbled to the side and landed on his side, utterly still.

Nick let the pistol drop from nerveless paws, then fell into a sitting position, shaking from head to toe. The noise of the shot, the kick of the pistol in his paws, all replaying endlessly in his mind. He wondered if the crisp snap of the bullet would never stop echoing. He stared at where Hubble lay, blinked, and felt sick.

"I thought you might do that." Hubble said suddenly and Nick was unable to suppress a shriek. The rabbit didn't move, just kept lying where he was, facing the helicopter. There was a neat round bullet hole in the black painted metal, haloed with spatters of blood, a reminder of where Nick's shot had gone.

"You're not dead." Nick said, disbelieving, feeling a surge of surreal terror wash over him. Like he was running from some awful threat in a dream but never getting any further from it. Hubble said nothing. Nick crawled forward a few feet, until he was nearly within arm's reach of Hubble.

"I shot you in the head," Nick said, voice trembling, "why aren't you dead?" He'd seen the blood fly, could even see the pool of crimson spreading languidly across the concrete, only a few feet away. Hubble made a noise that sounded like a sigh.

"You meant to kill me, yes?" Hubble asked, voice weary but still shockingly calm. He remained still, Nick drew back from him regardless, feeling like he'd just strayed too close to a poisonous snake.

"You were gonna detonate the explosives…" Nick said, drawing his knees to his aching chest, all too aware that his vision was starting to go gray around the edges.

"Yes," Hubble said, "I was." Nick glanced back to where the pistol was, lying next to a smear of blood on the pavement of the helicopter pad.

"Can you move?" Nick asked. Hubble was silent for a long time. Nick went back over to the pistol, reached out to pick it up but felt a swoop of nervous dread that persuaded him otherwise. Hubble chuckled tonelessly, his laughter harsh and humorless.

"You think I'm gonna set off the explosives when you go to get help for Lieutenant Hopps," there was something conspiratorial, almost irreverent, in his voice, "don't you." It wasn't a question.

Nick nodded slightly, even though he knew that Hubble couldn't see him.

"What if I shoot you again?" He asked. Hubble remained perfectly still, a breeze ruffled his ears.

"Would you though?" Hubble asked, "you haven't picked up that pistol, and there's always the chance that I'm mortally wounded, unable to so much as crawl an inch. Would you put a bullet into an immobilized mammal?" Nick stared, heart thumping heavily in his chest. This was a nightmare.

"You forced me to shoot you." Nick said at last. Hubble sighed.

"And maybe I'm forcing you to shoot me again. Maybe I'll get up and set the fuses on those bombs in the helicopter as soon as I hear you going back down those stairs." Nick picked up the pistol, shutting his eyes as he did so. It felt heavy and ugly, capable of atrocities beyond measure. He took aim at Hubble, paw trembling, the bore of the pistol jumping wildly.

"Come on Mr. Wilde," Hubble said after a long silent moment had passed, "you've already shot me twice, you've stabbed me in the wrist with a letter opener. What's one more act of violence?" Nick fought to keep his voice level.

"What's your endgame?" He asked, "why are you doing this?" No answer but the whistle of the wind. And…a very faint ding from below, echoing up the spiral staircase. The elevator opening up. Nick thought about going to look, perhaps it was Hopps securing help for herself, but the thought of turning his back on Hubble for even a moment put chills through him.

"If I were in your place I would have shot me dead already." Hubble said. Nick shook his head.

"I'm not you." Hubble moved his head very slightly, was that a faint nod?

"Very true…if anything I'd say that you have similarities to Mayor Holt. You've both grown up with the collar, ambitious and social, witty and clever. Looking for ways to better the city…" He chuckled, "and look how differently you both turned out…" Nick had nothing to say to that. He lowered the pistol and rested it between his knees, feeling shaky.

He wanted to think that the ding of the elevator opening had been Hopps going downstairs to summon help, but there was always the chance it hadn't been. What if it had been a friend of Hubble's? What if it was one of Holt's guards? Fear prickled his synapses, dread percolating as he contemplated the consequences.

"I have to get help." He muttered. Hubble definitely shifted his head slightly at this.

"In that case you must make a choice then. Shoot me or leave me. Not an easy one is it Mr. Wilde?" Nick looked down at the pistol in his paw and then over to Hubble. All he would need to do was squeeze the trigger.

On the other hand all he would need to do was walk away and trust that Hubble was too hurt to reach the helicopter and arm the explosives.

On the other hand…

On…

Nick laughed, a sharp, hysterical sound.

"You forgot the third option," he said, staggering to his feet, and limping towards Hubble, "but the more I learn about you the less surprised I am that you overlooked it." He stood a few feet back from the wounded rabbit, then crossed cautiously around in front of him.

His bullet had carved a bloody groove into the side of the rabbit's head, nearly severing his right ear. Blood pulsed weakly from the wound, and beneath the gore Nick could see splinters of pink stained bone. Hubble watched him warily, lip curled into a snarl.

"There is no third option." He said sharply. Nick smiled faintly.

"I'm going to bring you downstairs." He said, and immediately Hubble began to scramble to his feet, but Nick had been ready for this. He swung the pistol barrel in a flat arc in front of him, catching Hubble across the face with a flat crack. The rabbit toppled, stunned, kicking weakly, blood oozing from his wounds.

His reflexes had been dulled by his injuries, and even as Hubble struggled, Nick grabbed ahold of the back of the rabbit's suit and dragged him along. It was tough work, his vision flashing alarmingly in and out of static, but once they reached the stairs Hubble suddenly relaxed. He laughed, hysterical, eyes wide, one shot through with blood from where Nick had hit with the pistol barrel.

"You're gonna kill me down here," he said, and for the first time Nick heard Hubble's voice actually tremble, "so that the narrative fits. So that you can say it was Balthazar that did it…that…" He trailed off, and Nick paused at the bottom of the stairs, panting, feeling alarmingly weak.

"I'm not gonna kill you." Nick said irritably, Hubble gave him an uncomprehending look, but said nothing. He stared into the room where Hopps had been, but aside from the crumpled form of Balthazar there wasn't anyone in there. He smiled, almost sick with relief.

"Good…" He sighed, and headed for the elevator. Hubble remained limp in his grasp, like a newborn puppy, shocked by what Nick had said, eyes remaining firmly on the floor.

A moment later the ornate glass shielded light at the top of the elevator shaft turned a pleasant yellow and the doors opened with a ding. The reaction of the ZPD officers inside to Nick and Hubble was…interesting.

...

"I still cant believe they stunned you…" Hopps fumed, fifteen minutes later. She sounded slightly drowsy, even in her outrage, floating on a fluffy cushion of morphine. She no longer seemed to notice the cracked ribs that Hubble's bullet had left her with, or the black eye that Holt had given her while tying her up. Nick was sat next to her in the back of an ambulance, still feeling stiff and sore from his latest run-in with the ZPD.

"I did happen to be carrying a silenced pistol at the time," he said, "thanks for getting me out of that by the way…thought I was gonna end up in worse than handcuffs for a moment." The ZPD had cuffed him, and he was technically in Hopps' custody, what with being a wanted fugitive and all. But even though he was in chains he felt oddly relieved.

It was over. Somehow, sometime after being chained to his seat in the back of the ambulance, next to Hopps, it had hit him. It was over. Holt was dead. Nick had seen both Balthazar and Hubble borne out on stretchers, and there were bomb squad technicians being helicoptered in to deal with the explosives that Hubble had packed the mayor's helicopter with.

Across the river he thought that he could make out the faintest traces of music. Animalia had to be well and truly on by now. He smiled gently to himself.

"What?" Hopps asked.

"I'm probably gonna go to prison for a very long time," he said, "but…that doesn't bother me right now for some reason." Hopps' face fell in concern and she reached out, gripping Nick's paw.

"If you go," she said, "then I'll go too. Okay?" She definitely sounded a little loopy, but behind the morphine Nick could tell that her convictions were genuine. He smiled, gripping onto her paw with both of his.

"You remember what I said to you back at the canals? After you tossed the handcuff keys into the water?" Hopps smiled.

"Before or after I gazed longingly into your eyes?" She teased.

"I said that you were the worst thing that had ever happened to me," Nick said, "and, I'd like to revise that statement." Hopps raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Judy Hopps," Nick said, "you are the _best_ thing that has ever happened to me." And before he could react Hopps leaned forward and kissed him. It was brief and entirely unexpected, their lips meeting for a single elastic moment, then Hopps jerked back, paws fluttering to her ribs.

"Ow…" She groaned, "forgot about those for a second." Nick sat back in his seat, stunned, face coloring under his fur.

"Was that…?" He started to ask. Hopps gave him a wink.

"You're a smart fox," she smiled, "you can figure it out."


	24. Finale

**One Year Later…**

Nick awoke, paws scrabbling at his neck, entangled in a suffocating cocoon of blankets. He was clutching at where the collar had been. For a long moment he blinked, pulse still racing, vision adjusting to the darkness.

"Nick?" Hopps' voice, sharp with concern.

"I'm fine," he said, "just…"

"Another dream?" Hopps asked, and Nick could feel her snuggling next to him, gently freeing him from the tangle of blankets he'd managed to trap himself in. Nick nodded slowly, forcing his paws away from the collar. If he yanked at it then it would shock him again.

"Yeah," he forced himself to breathe evenly, to dispel the ugly fog of dread and terror that still lurked in the corners of his mind, "it's over…" Hopps' paws made their way to Nick's neck, caressed gently, over empty fur, unmarred by a collar.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hopps asked. Nick glanced over to the bunny, managing to smile.

"I am now." He kissed her between the ears and Hopps laid her head on his shoulder.

"Was it the same dream as last time?" Hopps asked after a moment. Nick nodded slightly.

"You'd think that I'd have gotten used to it by now," he said with a rueful smile, "like my brain would go: 'Nick, you're having the strangling dream again, cut it out buddy.' But I guess that's not how it works…" He trailed off.

"What time is it?" Hopps asked. Nick glanced over to the glowing digital face of the clock on his nightstand.

"Four fifteen…sixteen now." Hopps sat up, working out a crick in her neck before stretching.

"Well…I do have to get up in a half hour anyway," she said, "were you planning on going back to bed?" Nick thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.

"Nah." He flicked on the lamp on his side of the bed, bathing the bedroom in warm light. It was small and cozy, tucked away someplace not too far from Downtown. Rent wasn't even especially horrible.

Hopps blinked in the light and swung her legs out of bed, stretching once more before padding into the bathroom. The light flicked on, Nick watching her go, leaning back against his pillow.

How had he ever gotten so lucky? It felt surreal sometimes, when he was still waking himself up on mornings like this. Almost like he was still dreaming and at any moment he'd awaken to find himself back in his old apartment, boiler kicking on just above him.

"Coming sleepyhead?" Hopps asked from the bathroom and Nick smiled to himself, leaving the bed, traipsing over to the bathroom.

A ruffled, somewhat tired looking red fox stared back at him from the mirror, fur mussed and a thin scar standing out at the base of his muzzle. He had similar scars on his back, all the work of Balthazar the bat. Next to him Hopps was putting toothpaste on a toothbrush. Sticking it into her mouth she applied a little bulb of paste to Nick's brush and handed it over. Nick mussed the fur between her ears with a smile, she elbowed him playfully in the side.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Hopps asked as they made their way to the kitchen some minutes later, freshly showered and dressed for the day, fur still spiky with moisture.

"I'll cook," Nick said, "I woke you up after all…and besides, you know you cant reach those high shelves without my help." Hopps rolled her eyes but couldn't keep herself from laughing.

"I'm expecting a high class banquet Mr. Wilde." She said, affecting a mock posh accent. Nick opened the fridge, giving Hopps a sideways glance.

"I am nothing if not a cultured artisan Madam Hopps," he preened his whiskers as he spoke, "now would you prefer caviar or foie gras as a starter?" Hopps giggled.

"Honestly, I'm feeling like venturing into smoothie territory this morning. Now hand the fruit over fox." Nick did so, selecting some eggs and bread for himself. Their fridge had taken on something of a segregated appearance, eggs and fish and protein supplements occupying the higher shelves, more bunny appropriate foodstuffs crowding the bottom.

Nick looked out the window as he chopped fruit for Hopps' smoothie (he practically had to wrestle her to get her to sit still and allow him to do something nice for her). The view wasn't anything spectacular, just buildings and the barest glint of light off of the river, but Nick liked it.

"You working late tonight?" He asked. Hopps sighed and then nodded.

"Chief is probably gonna stick me on a stakeout," she said with a shrug, "but the good news is that if we nab the guy we're looking for then we might just catch a break on the whole collar fraud epidemic going on in the Docks." Nick paused, then kept going, his motions tighter, angrier.

"Why even crack down on them Judy?" He asked. Hopps sighed.

"Nick…" She folded her paws over the surface of the kitchen counter, coming up alongside Nick.

"I understand that it's the law, but…Christ, it doesn't feel like anything's changed." Hopps put a paw over Nick's, steadying the beginnings of a tremble.

"There are ten thousand predators in Zootopia who don't have to wear collars anymore," she said, "next year it'll be a hundred thousand, then a million the year after that. The collar is going away Nick…but not all at once, and if we get people faking test results and paperwork then that damages the credibility of those that actually worked to get their collars off. Like you." Nick let go of the knife and stared down at the fruit sitting on the cutting board, chopped raspberries and strawberries staining the plastic red.

"You're right," he said at last, "sorry…sore subject for me." Hopps smiled gently, squeezing Nick's paw.

"In a decade nobody but criminals will be wearing collars." She said, then paused, surprised by her own words. Only a year before such a statement would have been unthinkable. How quickly things changed…

"Yeah." Nick said absently, and chopped another strawberry.

"You look distracted," Hopps said, then paused before adding, "you probably shouldn't stare into middle space when you've got a knife in your paw." Nick couldn't help but smile.

"I'm being careful," he assured her, getting ready to blend Hopps' breakfast together, "just…thinking." The blender hummed and vibrated, Nick handed the tropically colored results over a moment later.

"About your visit?" Hopps asked. It was perhaps a needless question.

"Yep."

"Why _are_ you going to see that psycho?" Hopps asked, taking a sip of her smoothie and then giving Nick a thumbs up. He made a mock bow in appreciation of her silent praise.

"It's been a year," Nick said, "I…I guess I want some closure." Hopps was silent for a moment.

"I hope you get it," she said, "but if he starts trying to play games with you, like he did on that rooftop, just get up and walk away." Nick nodded dutifully.

"Of course." He turned the stove on and dropped a pat of margarine into the pan, watching it melt away.

Some time later, with breakfast finished and the sun just beginning to poke its rays above the horizon, Hopps slipped on her vest and tucked away her handcuffs.

"You know," Nick said, padding up behind her, "I don't think I can overstate just how cute you look in that uniform." Hopps rolled her eyes.

"Flagrant use of the C-word," she teased, "that might just count as harassment of a law enforcement officer." Nick grinned.

"Well, the last time you tried to arrest me absolutely nothing went awry, so…" Hopps smiled and wrapped her arms around him. Nick returned the hug, giving Hopps a squeeze.

"Oof, careful there," the bunny laughed, "I've already broken those ribs before, no need to repeat the experience." She planted a kiss on the tip of his nose, then ruffled his ears.

"Let me walk you out," Nick said, opening the door for her, "I've gotta get going too." They exited out into the hallway, empty this early in the morning. The apartment complex they lived in was solidly middle class, nothing fancy but definitely comfortable.

Hopps' parents hadn't been…thrilled with her decision to move out, especially when they learned that she'd be living with Nick, but in the end they'd relented. There had certainly been a lot of very teary MuzzleTime calls in those days.

The street was busier, and though Nick tried hard to ignore them he couldn't help but feel the stares of other mammals burning into him. A pig in a construction worker's getup giving them a glance from down the street, a sheep in the front passenger seat of a car glaring as he cruised past.

All attracted by the sight of a ZPD officer and a collarless fox standing together. At times like this Nick felt all of the old doubts creeping back. How had he come into all of this? Did he deserve any of it?

 _Yes._ He said to himself. Firmly. And took ahold of Hopps' paw as they made their way to the subway station. Hopps still took the train to work each morning, but now that they lived in the city proper her commute only took a few minutes.

Hopps calmly ignored the looks they attracted, and Nick felt the anxiety melting away. Like it did every time they walked together. It seemed to be a constant cycle: fear, doubt, then a sort of bliss as he remembered just what had driven him and Hopps together. What made them inseparable.

"I'll see you tomorrow I guess," Nick said with a smile as they approached the platform, "get in touch if the Chief doesn't end up making you spend the night in a patrol car." Hopps smiled and reached up, putting her paws on either side of Nick's face before drawing him down into a kiss. Nick felt a brief flash of concern as he considered the people surrounding them, then released his inhibitions and melted into it.

"I will." She promised, and a moment later had gone, vanishing into the crowd of mammals starting their morning commutes. Nick watched the train depart, smiled to himself, and walked back out of the station, Hopps' kiss still tingling on his lips.

...

The prison was a massive place, all poured concrete and razor wire, guard towers and sliding steel gates. The guards wore dark blue, their clothes similar to ZPD uniforms, only without the badge or vest.

"ID?" The guard at the entrance checkpoint asked. Nick moved to present his collar, then fished for his wallet instead after his fingers grazed through bare fur. It was strange to have to carry an ID card, after so many years of just having people scan his neck whenever they wanted to know who he was.

"Nicholas P. Wilde?" The guard asked. Nick nodded. "Date of birth?" Nick told him. The guard let him go through, the steel gate sliding smoothly open on a well oiled track. Nick could see cameras at the bottom the track, designed to search for contraband clinging to the bottom of any vehicle that passed through the gate.

The security was unnerving, and even though he was only visiting, Nick felt vaguely frightened of the high walls and glinting razor wire. The prison felt oppressive, lifeless.

He passed down a walkway bordered with high featureless concrete walls and presented his ID once more to a guard situated in a Plexiglass fronted booth next to a steel security door. The door swung open noiselessly and Nick headed in.

It was like he was delving deeper and deeper into some sort of cave. There were no windows, and the only light came from a bank of fluorescents shielded by chicken wire.

A hippo guard lumbered out to meet him, looking down and then checking a list with contemplative care.

"Mr. Wilde?" He asked.

"Yes," Nick said, "your six thirty visitor." The guard nodded curtly and moved heavily over to another door, glancing briefly at a camera feed before turning back to Nick.

"Through there's the visiting room," he said, pointing a finger at the security door, "it's monitored and there are guards on standby in case anything happens. If you feel unsafe or wish to leave before your half hour of visitation is up then stand and approach the door, we'll open it for you. Understand?" Nick nodded slightly, feeling oddly nervous now. His heart thudded in his chest, he wondered briefly if he'd made a mistake in coming here.

But it was too late to back out now. The security door swung open, just as silent and smooth as the others, and Nick walked in.

The visiting room consisted of a series of steel tables with similarly drab steel chairs bolted to the ground on either end of them. A Plexiglass shield stood in the center of each table, perhaps to dissuade prisoners from leaping at their visitors. Or vice-versa.

The walls and ceiling had been painted a clinical white that almost hurt Nick's eyes just to look at, while the floor was polished concrete. The security door clicked shut behind him. Nick took a seat, folded his paws on the table in front of him, and tried to think of what he would say.

When Hubble came in he was escorted by two guards, both his ankles and wrists cuffed together. Nick couldn't help but blink, surprised by how different Hubble looked.

The rabbit sitting across from him was thin and drawn, white fur no longer quite so pristine, an emptiness where one of his ears had once been. The absence made him look almost lopsided, like Nick should have had to cock his head to the side just to look at him straight.

And, most surreally, around Hubble's neck was a collar. Prison issue. Green light glowing peacefully. Nick had known that everyone received a collar in prison, but even looking at the thing put chills through him.

Hubble sat down, eyes flickering over Nick momentarily before moving down to the surface of the table. The guards busied themselves cuffing him to the chair, then walked briskly away. Their door shut with a clunk.

"You're my first visitor." Hubble said a moment later, voice quiet and sedate. He seemed slightly caught off guard, alarmed to have someone coming to see him.

"Nobody else came to see you?" Nick asked. He knew that Hopps hadn't, knew that nobody else involved in the case had really bothered, but hadn't at least a single one of Hubble's underworld contacts dropped in to say goodbye to him? Hubble said nothing, just gave Nick a glance that told him everything he needed to know.

"Why'd you come here Mr. Wilde?" Hubble asked at last, breaking an icy and uncomfortable silence. Answering a question with a question. Wasn't that just typical…

"Well, it is the one year anniversary of your diabolical plot to destroy the city," Nick said with a shrug, "I figured that that was significant somehow." Hubble pursed his lips slightly, looking annoyed.

"A year," he said vaguely, "it feels like it's been longer." Nick nodded slowly. Hubble appeared slightly blurry through the Plexiglass shield, like he was speaking to a wraith rather than the rabbit that had tried to kill the city.

"You don't look like you've been enjoying your time here." Nick said lightly. Hubble's eyes went flat and defensive.

"So that's why you came…" He said, voice dropping into toneless menace, "to mock me? To rub it in?" Nick blinked, feeling fur bristle up on the back of his neck.

"I want to talk about the rooftop," he said, alarmed by the rabbit's sudden mood shift, "I want to know what you were trying to do to me up there." At this the emotion drained back out of Hubble's face and he settled back in his seat, eyes going back to dark glass beads, face to something that wouldn't have been out of place on a doll.

"You'll have to answer a question of mine." The rabbit said. Nick blinked, cocking his head slightly.

"You're playing games again," he said spitefully, "I ought to just get up and walk out. It's not like you're gonna get any other visitors to mess with." Anger flashed in Hubble's eyes and he started to rise up before jerking to the side, clawing at his neck. His collar had shocked him. Nick flinched back, instinctively reaching up to his own neck. Hubble sat back up, his posture rigid, whiskers trembling.

"Ironic," he said, breathing jagged, "how I'm in a collar and you aren't." Nick thought about getting up and leaving, but for some reason didn't.

"One of the lucky few," Nick said, wishing that he could scoot his chair away from the table, away from Hubble, "but the program is expanding. Soon they'll be able to test hundreds of predators each day." Hubble regarded Nick for an uncomfortably long moment.

"That's related to what I wanted to ask you," he said, "do you miss the collar?" Nick blinked, caught off guard.

"No." He said sharply. Hubble's gaze was unwavering.

"I've heard that there are predators out there who don't _want_ their collars off. They don't think that prey will trust them if they remove the one thing that society believes is keeping them from going savage." Nick sat back, unnerved by the bizarre new trajectory the conversation was taking.

"What does this have to do with anything?" He asked, almost afraid to find out how Hubble would answer.

"Have you ever thought that all of this new collar legislation passed since Holt's plot failed is only going to make things worse?" Nick gritted his teeth, Hubble was still dead serious, face a mask.

"I don't agree with a lot of it," he said, quite truthfully, "but it's a start. The collar is being phased out." Hubble adjusted his own collar, very carefully, lest it shock him again.

"They were thinking about putting you back in a collar." He said, and Nick glared.

"But then I was acquitted, me and Lieutenant Hopps both. You on the other paw are here for life. Without possibility of parole." His words were angry, tone vicious. Hubble didn't seem fazed.

"I believe the District Attorney advocated bringing back the death penalty for me," he said with bizarre fondness, "what an exit I would have made had that gone through." The whole conversation felt surreal, Nick almost wished that Hubble would go back to rambling about collars.

"I'm glad it didn't," Nick said, "you deserve to spend a couple of decades in here before you make your 'exit.'" At this a flash of anger crossed Hubble's face. He hid it, but not well enough.

"What I was getting at about the collar," he said, with philosophical deliberation, "is that removing it is going to scare a lot of people. And when crime rates don't drop, when predators don't miraculously move up the social ladder overnight like a whole galaxy of suburbanite prey animals think they will, then tensions will start rising again. And at that point you'll have absolutely no way to stop them." Hubble shrugged, chains clinking.

"Is this some convoluted way to validate what you did?" Nick asked. Hubble shook his head.

"No. What I did doesn't need validation, it's already perfectly legitimized in my mind. And that's really all that matters."

"Then what?" Nick asked, frustrated by Hubble's bizarrely evasive answers, "are you trying to scare me?" Once again Hubble shook his head.

"Warn you," he corrected gently, "I suppose I do owe that to the one mammal that genuinely surprised me." Nick sighed.

"Then you can join all of the other psychos in the city with their END IS NIGH signs. I don't think the guards will care much, but you've still got your freedom of speech." Hubble bristled, Nick's eyes flickered down to the rabbit's collar but Hubble avoided a shock.

"Do you _really_ think that anything will change just because the collar is going away?" Hubble asked, eyes dark with a focused kind of anger that made the fur rise on the back of Nick's neck, "prejudice is in here," he tapped the side of his head, "not here." He tapped the collar briskly and continued staring.

"I think I've got it," Nick said after a moment, "you're not crazy, or generously warning me about the 'collapse of society.' You just don't want to lose." At this Hubble blinked, caught off guard. Nick pressed ahead.

"I caught you on that roof," he said, "I shot you down and then…I…I didn't kill you. That's what you _wanted_ me to do, so that you didn't end up in a place like this for the rest of your life." Nick was grinning wildly now, bizarrely ecstatic. Hubble's face had gone slack, he stared in shock and growing fury.

"You…" The collar shocked him. He hissed and slumped sideways in his seat.

"You know I'm right," Nick said, "and guess what Hubble?" He gave the rabbit a moment to answer. Hubble elected not to, just staring sullenly instead. "You're gonna die, but not in the way that you planned. You aren't gonna make any sort of memorable exit, not in an electric chair or on the roof of a hotel. You're gonna die in here fifty years from now, a forgotten old rabbit that nobody cares about. That's what's gonna happen to you." Hubble's breathing had gone jagged, his eyes black with incandescent fury. The collar shocked him again but he hardly even moved, just cricked his neck to one side.

"When I get out of here," he said, voice low and deadly, "I'm going to kill Judy and you. I'm not going to mess around with any sort of plot or plan, I'm just going to kill you both. Because you're right Nicky," Nick blinked, alarmed to hear Koslov's old nickname for him coming out of Hubble's mouth, beyond alarmed to hear the rabbit use Hopps' first name, "I don't like to lose." Nick stood up.

"Goodbye Hubble." He said, and turned briskly around.

He remained practically statuesque in his stoicism until he got home. There he sat down on the couch, hugged his arms around himself and started to tremble. He had faced down judges in the past year, sued Zootopia's largest news syndicate for libel (and won), braved the unknown wilds of an interspecies relationship, and yet…listening to Hubble speak had been by far the scariest experience of them all.

"But it's over now." He told the empty apartment, and sat back.

Trying not to entertain the dark whispers in the back of his mind that he might be wrong.


End file.
